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Speaking his Language

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~~oooOOOooo~~

 

Morning back at the TARDIS was a relaxed, and very unusual sight for Rose Tyler.  

 

One thing she’d never seen of the Doctor was a sleep-ruffled version padding about the hallway wearing nothing but a loose-fitting pair of pyjama pants and half on/half off pair of socks hanging off his toes.   Come to think of it, despite the bed she shared with him during a future incarnation, she’d never been so lucky as to have seen him freshly woken – or in this case, not quite awake at all.

 

Last night’s adventure on the cliffs had done a number on the otherwise tireless Time Lord.  He’d barely made the walk back from the cliffs to the TARDIS before he’d bid her goodnight and wandered deep into the bowels of the ship to go to bed.

 

Her, on the other hand, she was wired.  Being told about the nature of pet ownership on Gallifrey and how she’d been specifically chosen by a pair of wolves had been eye-opening.  Apparently she now owned two really dangerous, but incredibly beautiful wolves.  That had shocked and alarmed her. There was no way at all she wanted to be responsible for the domestication of such beautiful animals  … Well, okay, she was totally cool with having them as pets because they were stunning creatures – but they were essentially wild beasts that far better suited to the wildlands of Gallifrey than sleeping beside her bed at night.  But there they were.  Beside her bed.  Like a pair of blue-white Malamute dogs.  She spent the evening watching these proud animals curled up against each other huffing and snoring in that adorable doggy manner in absolute wonderment.

 

Her mind ran a mile a minute wondering just how much of the Doctor’s timeline she was changing by being here.  In their future, the Doctor didn’t have pets onboard his ship.  He never mentioned having any pets.  Here they were with two of them: two very large wolves who had a lifespan well into three centuries.  That meant that her future with him was at least that far ahead in the future.

 

Of course she had voiced that concern on their way back to the TARDIS when he’d spoken to her about the Dahrama and their decision to walk beside Rose as her faithful companions.

 

“Perhaps I simply take all three of you back to future me,” he’d offered with a suggestive smile of hope.  One she watched fall when she shook her head and told him that was unlikely.

 

“How would they do on Earth?” she’d asked him instead.

 

He didn’t answer that question.  Instead he’d chosen to abruptly flip the topic of conversation toward the purple blossoms on the ground and how the Schlenk blooms emitted what he considered to be the best scent in the known universe.  

 

And so had become another nature hike of learning and instruction, which she did not mind in the slightest.   To hear the way the Gallifreyan lyrics fell from his lips was simply divine, and she could listen to it all night. 

 

These lecturing topics and Gallifreyan language instruction took them all the way back to the TARDIS.  Shortly thereafter, the Doctor had yawned widely without covering his mouth with his hand, and suggested that it was time for bed.

 

That was a few hours ago, now.   While the Doctor may well have slept, she really did not.   After three hours of wide-eyed non slumber, she finally went for a shower, dressed, and then padded toward the kitchen in order to make herself a tea and perhaps sneak in a pre-breakfast snack.  They had, after all, missed dinner

 

With her new pets following protectively behind her, Rose entered the kitchen and paused at the sight that greeted her.

 

The Doctor stood in a slouch at the open fridge.  One arm lay across the edge of the door, and the other held at the edge of the fridge.  He wore a low slung pair of pyjama pants that had fallen down low enough for her to see a deep and defined pair of Venus Dimples just above the waistband.  His back was bare, and his curly hair mussed so far beyond recognition that she didn’t know it could ever again be tamed.

 

She smiled and appraised this look quite carefully as she slowly and quietly walked deeper into the room, knowing full well that this would be the one and only time she would ever be blessed with such a sight.  As soon as the Doctor knew he’d been caught out like this, he’d never allow it to happen again.

 

He murmured low and lyrically toward the contents of the fridge, and as she drew closer, the musky smell of sleep curled around her.  He may well have cited Schlenk blossoms as being his favourite smell.  This wonderful odour of sleepy Time Lord had now risen to the top of her list.  She inhaled deeply to draw in the smell of him and then quickly held that breath when she saw his shoulders tense.

 

Caught….

 

“Rose?” his voice, higher than it normally was, asked in a manner that desperately hoped he was mistaken in thinking she had caught him in such a state of undress.

 

“Good mornin’, Doctor,” she chirped in a happy manner.  “Talkin’ to yourself; or are you engaged in a rather important discussion with a piece of celery?”

 

Still in his hunch in the fridge door, illuminated only by the small yellow light inside, the Doctor gave a husky chuckle.  “Carrot, actually,” he corrected her with amusement.  “Celery stalks really aren’t good conversationalists.”   He straightened up and turned in the still open door of the fridge.  He gave her a shrug.  “Not enough calories to sustain any reasonable topic.”

 

The smile on Rose’s face fell, and her face lengthened in awe, as all of the fluid drained from her mouth.  The low slung seat of the waistband of his Pyjama pants was in no way higher than where they fell at the back.  She could see the thatch of thick curly dark chestnut hair both above the waistband, and through the small V-opening at the front that should have been closed shut by a pair of drawstrings.  Either the Doctor had forgotten to tie them, or they’d come apart during sleep.  She figured that she should let him know about it, as it did appear to her that the only thing actually holding the trousers at the very edge of dignity was that he had not yet fully freed himself of the – ehm – morning condition that befell most men.

 

“Uhm, Doctor,” she breathed through a smile.  “You might want to, you know.”

 

“Might want to what, Rose?”  He let out a moan and stretched his arms above his head.  His thinned torso now put him at complete risk of losing the trousers completely.

 

She peeped, but the threat of his complete exposure actually held her in place, her eyes on that little open V.  “Oh, ehm.”  She twirled her finger in the air a moment and then pointed downward toward his crotch.  “You’re about to show me what your dad gave you.”

 

There was a very brief moment of question in his sleepy eyes.  That was short lived and they quickly blew wide with shock.  He dropped his hands quickly, yanked up his trousers, and hurriedly tied the drawstrings together.

 

“Very sorry about that,” he muttered behind with a yawn.  “Didn’t expect you to be up and about this early.”

 

“I didn’t expect to see you looking so, well, so…”  She chuckled.  “In your jammies looking like you’ve been thoroughly shagged within an inch of your life.”   She circled her finger toward her hair.  “All messy and untamed.”

 

He lifted his eyes to look at the two curls of his fringe and then lifted his hands to smooth out the rest of his head.  He knew it would be an impossible task, taming this mane took considerable effort and hair products to achieve.   He noted her expression of surprise, and even a pinking at the tips of her ears and across her cheeks, and looked at her with wariness.

 

“Rose,” he began,  “Forgive me for noting this, but you do appear to be somewhat surprised by my attire.”

 

She licked at her lip and shrugged.  “Yeah, I am.”  She pursed her lips.  “I guess.”

 

“You’re surely not saying that you’ve never seen me like this before,” he remarked with his own level of surprise.  “I saw that memory, Rose.  You can’t deny that you’ve seen me first thing in the morning.”

 

She leaned up against the breakfast counter.  She tucked her hair behind her ear and offered him a very sheepish smile.  “Actually, I can.” 

 

His brows shot up into his hairline.

 

“Future you,” she clarified.  “I mean the one who I shared the – ehm – intimacy with.  When we did share a bed, we didn’t really wake up together.”  She tipped one shoulder up to her ear and looked to the floor.  “I mean, yeah, we did snuggle after, but he never stayed.  He really didn’t sleep like you do.  Said that he didn’t have to…”

 

He nodded with awareness.  “It’s an evolutionary trait – physiology for survival if you will.”  He tried to find a pocket in the hip of his pyjama pants to thrust his hand in there, and actually struggled for positioning of that hand when he realised there weren’t any.  “When we travel – as we travel in the way we do throughout time and space – our bodies adapt to not require sleeping as often as we do here in Gallifrey.  Losing even a short moment to sleep can result in a disruption of the timelines if we aren’t closely monitoring them – particularly when we have a rather inquisitive human as our companion.”  He gave her a tender smile.   The smile then shifted to his lecturing expression.  “So that said:  When I am off Gallifrey, I have a cycle that requires very little sleep.  Here on Gallifrey, I sleep.  Like you do.  As much as you do in fact.”

 

“I see,” she breathed out with understanding.  “Makes sense.”  Her eyes lifted to his.  “So then you’ll understand why seein’ you like this:  all sleepy and relaxed in your jim jams, is a new sight for me.”

 

He opened his arms and gave her a cheeky wink.  “You like?”

 

“I think I can get used to it.”

 

A smile broke out across his face and he dared take a step toward her, letting the fridge door close being him with a soft padding sound.  “Get used to it, Rose?  What are you saying?”

 

She inhaled deep as the scent of him drew closer.  She gulped and lifted her eyes to keep her gaze in line with his  “I’m not sayin’ what you’re thinkin’, Doctor, so behave.”

 

He moved yet closer.  Another step and he was within inches of her.  He loomed down at her and let his voice take on a husky tone.  “You really don’t know what I’m thinking, Rose,” he teased softly with a lick at his lip.  “But there are several options in mind.”

 

She peeped and swallowed thickly.  “Uh-huh?”

 

He then backed off abruptly to walk around her.  “Well, as per Romana’s instructions, we are grounded here on Gallifrey for the next little while.  This means that bumping into each other first thing in the morning is a very high probablility.  I’m home, and I do like to be comfortable when I am here.  This means pyjamas at night, and more often than not only the bottom half.”  He swept his hand in the air ahead of her in a gesture toward her current attire of short sleeper shorts and a lose camisole with a bralette underneath.  “As do you, it appears.”

 

“I, err,” she began as her arms folded across her chest as though to cover up.  “I really wasn’t expectin’ you to be walking around at this time.”

 

“Nor I you,” he offered with a shrug.  His attention then shifted to curiosity.  “And just why is it you are up, Rose.  I would think that after the events of this evening, you’d be out like a light.”

 

She inhaled a deep breath.  “Couldn’t sleep,” she admitted.  “And I was feeling peckish, we missed dinner an’ all.”

 

“I hear you,” he agreed with a scratch of his head.  “While I did get a good couple of hours in, it wasn’t anywhere near enough.”  He flicked his head to the cupboard.  “Need me to pull something together for you?  We haven’t been to the market recently, so there isn’t much.  But I’m sure we can MacGyver something.”

 

She shook her head.  “It’s okay, Doctor.  I should probably try to go back to bed.  We can go out in the morning and pick something up, if you like.”  She smiled.  “Gotto be better than scraps and leftovers, right?”

 

His head was angled to one side and his eyes narrowed in focus of her.  “You do need sleep,” he reminded her.  “Are you actually going to be able to manage it?”

 

“Should do,” she answered with a shrug.  She scratched at the ears of her male Dahrama.  “Maybe I’ll see if these two might want to jump onto the bed with me instead of snuggling up on the floor…”

 

There was a very short moment of indecision in his eyes.  It cleared quickly when he had come to what he felt was an appropriate choice.  He leaned forward and took her hand in his.  “Come with me,” he urged softly.

 

“Come where?”

 

He tugged lightly on her hand and coaxed her into a walk with him.  “Just come with me.  I think I have the answer for both of us on this quandary of how in Arcadia either of us will get to sleep tonight.”

 

She followed curiously behind him for a few steps, and then sped up to walk beside him instead. She looked back to make sure that the wolves were following – which they were.   Their expressions showed as much curiosity as she felt.  “What did you have in mind?” 

 

“You’ll see,” he promised her in a tender tone as he walked them both deep into the corridors of the TARDIS.  They strode past her bedroom and continued around three more corners before he stopped in front of an ornate door gilded in gold Gallifreyan symbols.

 

“My name,” he said gently, and then read the words out aloud in his mother tongue.

 

Her initial though should have been to repeat after him, but her mind was more focused on what would be behind a door that had his name carved into it.   She looked up at him warily.  “Doctor?  Is this your bedroom?”

 

He nodded as he pressed his hand into the door and it opened with a light click and hiss.  “Don’t tell me I’ve never brought you here before, either.”

 

“Well,” she began unsurely.  “No.  When he and I came together, it was usually outside the TARDIS.  If we did find ourselves feeling, well, frisky, it was when we were in the library, or kitchen, or the control room…”

 

“Anywhere except the comfort of our beds,” he completed with a sigh if disappointment in himself.  “I’m sorry, Rose.  I really should have given you better than that.”

 

“Don’t be sorry,” she whispered.  “I never was. You.  Him.  When the mood took him, and it was usually random – he’d.”  She sighed with remembrance.  “He was just so passionate.  It was like, waitin’ to find a bedroom might ruin it all, you know?  Like if he let go of me for just a sec, I’d be gone.”

 

“An irrational need,” the Doctor surmised.  He nodded with understanding and tugged on her hand to draw her into his bedroom.  He felt resistance and looked back to her, speaking her name in question.

 

“Doctor,” she warned.  “I’m not havin’ sex with you.”

 

His brows lifted.  “I’m sorry, what?”

 

He jutted her chin toward the bed.  “If you’re brinin’ me here thinking that a quick round under the sheets is your answer to the both of us going to sleep, then no.  Think of something else.

 

He took note of the fact that she didn’t shake her hand free of his when she so vehemently rebuffed what she though he was aiming for this evening.  That gave him hope that she wasn’t about to flee.

 

“That’s not what I had in mind,” he assured her.  “That thought didn’t even cross my mind until you brought it up.”  He looked at his bed with want, and then back to her when he finally registered how this looked and how she must have taken his desire to take her to his room.  “But I can see how you drew that conclusion.”

 

“So what were you thinking?”  Her voice was soft, but it peeped when the two wolves squeezed in between them and then launched excitedly into the room.  For a moment, they both leapt on the unmade bed, jumped back to the floor, jumped back into the bed again and snuffled in the bedclothes.  “Whatever it was,” she said with a chuckle.  “The kids might have quashed your plans.”

 

“Both of you,” he growled sharply in English before shifting to the huffs and growls better understood by them.  They stopped immediately, looked at each other, and then both jumped down to the floor.  They nuzzled each other and then both lay down together, curled into one large blue-white ball of fur.

“That’s better,” the Doctor groused.  He looked back toward Rose and smiled as he tugged lightly on her hand.  “Come on in,” he urged.  “I swear to you that there was nothing more nefarious on my mind this evening than to simply hold you until morning.”

 

She followed in behind him, gasping when the door schnicked closed behind them.  “You just want to hold me?  That’s it?  Nothing else?”

 

He got as far as the bed and turned to face her.  He released her hand and then cupped her face tenderly.  “I almost lost you tonight,” he admitted gravely.  He lowered his forehead to hers and held them together, his eyes closed and his voice breathy.  “For a moment I honestly believed that you were gone, and there was nothing I could do to save you.”

 

“But you did,” she whispered in reply, focusing her gaze on the dark arc of lashes underneath his closed eye.  “You saved me, Doctor.  I’m right here.”

 

His eyes flashed open and locked on hers.  Dusty blue locked on swirling amber and brown.  Words in Gallifreyan passed through his lips.  Then English followed.  “You weren’t when I slept, Rose.  You weren’t when I woke up terrified I’d failed you.”

 

She pulled back from him and ran her hands over his chest as she walked around him to the bed.  She sat down on the mattress and held out her hand to him.  “I’m here now, Doctor.”

 

His smile was grateful.  His shoulders dropped in relief.  With a breath of gratitude, he crawled onto the bed toward the other side, and lay down on the mattress.  The pillow was quickly tucked under his head and he opened his arm to invite her to come to him.   “Just to sleep,” he promised her as his tired eyes closed.  “That’s all.”

 

Well, how could she resist that?  This whole room smelled of him and of his attempts to sleep.  The sheets had cooled off to chilly, but the blanket looked warm.  That open arm was very inviting.  She quickly moved to lay at his side and sighed happily when his arm not only fell lightly upon her, but also drew the duvet across them too.

 

“G’Night, Rose,” he slurred sleepily as he wriggled a little bit closer and tucked her firmly up against his chest. 

 

His cool breath puffed against her neck and shoulder, and his thumping double-heart beat lightly against her back.   The coolness of him, so very cool against her heated skin, it seemed to reach down deep inside of her, holding her closer to him than their physical bodies could possibly manage.

 

Her mind quickly moved back in time – her time, the future for him – and reminded her of a time when closeness like this came easily between them.  The security of his hold, and the unspoken promise that he’d be there to have and to hold her forever more … that security that fled after a fiery explosion of regeneration.  She missed this.  She missed him.

 

She couldn’t leave it without a voice for a moment longer.  “Doctor?” she queried softly, hoping he wasn’t yet asleep.

 

His answer was a soft pair of breaths against her shoulder.  “Yes, Rose?” 

 

“I miss you,” she admitted sadly.

 

“I’m right here,” he assured her softly.

 

“I miss you,” she clarified.  “Future you.”

 

“Again,” he said softly.  “Right here, Rose.”

 

“Are you really, though?” she pressed on, trying desperately to keep the emotion of loss from her voice.

 

“I am the past, I am the future,” he muttered.  “I’m every me from number one to thirteen.”  He inhaled a sigh.  “Now please.  Sleep.”

 

She rolled in his arms to face him.  Sleep wasn’t really going to come to her any time soon, and she figured if he was going to invite her into his bed, then he was going to get as much – or as little – sleep as she was.  She watched his expression shift in the darkened small space between them.  His eyes weren’t yet open, but she could tell that his sleepiness was giving way to wakefulness.

 

“Doctor,” she urged with a quiet voice.  “Look at me, please?”

 

Those sleepy blue eyes opened.  “What’s wrong?”  His pupils were so dilated that she could barely see a hint of blue, and she waited until they focused before pressing on.

 

“I nearly died tonight,” she murmured. 

 

“But you didn’t.”

 

“Because you saved me.”

 

The hand he held over her waist moved so that he could tough her face.  “And I always will.”

 

“I-I love you,” she blurted out.  “Future you,” she clarified.  “And future future you.”

 

Hope seemed to rise a little in his chest between his hearts.  He licked at the roof of his suddenly dry mouth.  “And past me?”

 

Present you,” she corrected with a smile.

 

“Present me,” he agreed with his eyes sobering and waking fast.  “How do you feel about the me as I am right now?”

 

She shifted quickly forward and captured his lips with hers.  Her move obviously startled him and made him gasp, which she stole within her own inhale as she used the part between his lips to deepen their connection.  His arms snapped tightly around her waist in response and his head angled further to one side in an effort to further deepen their kiss.   Rose grabbed at the waistband of his pyjama pants and awkwardly pushed and twisted them in an attempt to draw them down over his hips.

 

“I – I think you’re amazin’,” she panted against his mouth.

 

He claimed her mouth hard for a long second in response, and then pulled back sharply.  “Do you think you can love me?” he questioned as he lowered his hands to help her remove his trousers.

 

She whimpered a high sigh when he kicked the trousers free from his ankles and then swiftly moved moved his hand to her lower back and pulled her firmly up against him.

 

“Can you?” he pleaded with a rock of his hips into hers.  Shifting his hand around her backside to settle against her thigh.  With a firm flex of his arm, he had her thigh hooked over his hip.  He rocked again, rolling partway over her.  “Can your heart beat for me like mine do for you?”

 

Her head lifted back into the pillow, her mouth gaping wide so that her breath could escape swiftly and return as a gulp.  “Yes, Doctor,” she panted out.  “Yes.”

 

He purred Gallifreyan words against her neck as he shifted his hand to slide down the back of her shorts and pants.  Moving back from her only enough to allow the material to shift in between them, he shoved the material over her hips, to her knees, and then hooked it with his foot to draw them off completely.  Now naked from the waist down, he rolled them both together and settled his hips between her thighs.

 

He took a short moment to look into her face, that was now turned sideways into her pillow, and dropped his mouth to nip lightly at her jaw.  “Stop me,” he huffed against her throat as he rocked his hips against hers, sliding himself wholly along her length.  “Because I’m not able to stop myself.”

 

“Don’t stop,” she pitched a high whine. 

 

“But the rules,” he growled out, his hips rocking a more urgent rhythm against her.  He lifted high on his arms and dropped his head low into his shoulders as he continued to move against her.  With her gasping whimper, he lifted his head high and moaned out a loud series of sounds, each syllable times with the desperate thrust of his hips.

 

“To Hell with the rules,” she growled on a high-pitched tone.  “No more rules.”  Another phrase, one in very broken Gallifreyan passed through her lips next. 

 

The Doctor felt his arms falter as her broken attempt at his language, thick with London-English accent, cut through the space between them.  He wondered if she knew what she was saying, or if she was merely repeating what she’d heard so many times before from his elder self….

 

…It was probably the dirtiest phrase a Gallifreyan could ever mutter – and one never spoken outside the bedroom.

  

With a long howl that would rival any such howls that the two wolves on the floor beside their bed could cry out, the Doctor drove deep and forward, sheathing himself completely inside her.

 

The sudden coolness of him, and of an unfamiliar length and breadth she hadn’t been anticipating, Rose found herself clutching hard at the bedsheets and pushing herself up the bed just a little.  Not so much for escape, but to seek a moment to gather her wits.

 

He paused, but only for a moment to gather his own wits at her blaring heat surrounding him.   She said his name, though, the one he gave himself, and immediately he started to rock and move with long bold strokes that shifted more than just his hips.  His entire body moved along her, each long stroke eliciting a new and more deeply hollered cry of passion that the one before it.

 

Rose battled to keep her eyes on the man moving above her.  Each stroke of him was like an icy blast of sheer thrill and ecstasy, and all she wanted to do was close her eyes and become completely lost in his words, his moans, and the way he felt inside her.  Her eyes fought her, but she kept her eyes on him, focused on the contorting expressions of arousal, passion, and the chase for completion.   He lifted up again onto his arms, towering over her, hanging low into his shoulders as he maintained a perfect rocking rhythm against her.

 

His words shifted between his language and hers, both of them crying out words of promise and adoration.

 

And watching him.  Watching that beautiful, rouguish, and almost boyish face shift and move and crease as he succumbed completely to her, drove her toward completion far quicker than she had wanted.  She tried to stave off the climax, tried hard to shift and find position underneath him that would let it ebb away to come back later.   But it was to no avail.  He held her hip with his hand, pressed himself completely against her with every forward thrust.  He coaxed her to finish with movements, and with his voice, and in a moment she shattered completely, howling out his name along with that of her deity, and completely arched off the bed underneath him.

 

His arm quickly swept underneath her back and he pulled her chest into his face.  He rocked her through the entirety of her completion, keeping her as high as he could, until she finally fell back down underneath him, panting, and holding at her chest to try catch her breath.

 

Passion fled the man at that moment.  His fervor was replaced by gentle licks and kissed, on her shoulders, against the high rise of her breast, on her nose, and finally a tender catch of her lips with his. 

 

She could barely catch her breath to keep up with the roll of his mouth against hers.  And as she struggled, he merely chuckled.  He pressed a lone, chaste, and gentle kiss against her swollen bottom lip, and then pulled himself from her.  He rolled off to the side and fell onto his back at her side. 

 

He was in no way as breathless as she was, but he was certainly content.  He rolled his head on the pillow and smiled as he let his hand search out hers, and then capture it.  He lifted her hand to his mouth and kissed lightly at her knuckles.

 

“You are,” he whispered with awe.  “Simply breathtaking.”

 

Her breath was still shortened.  “I would say,” she gulped back, “That you’re the one who took … my breath.”

 

He laughed and wriggled himself beside her.  With gentle coaxing, he guided her lo lay on her side and snuggled himself up against her back.  His lips traced her shoulder in a single line toward her ear.   “Sleep, my Hearts,” he said tenderly.  “And tomorrow you get to see me again in all my morning glory.”

 

She nestled herself against him and let out a very contented sigh.  His hearts against hr back, his cold skin cooling hers.  The hum of the TARDIS in her ears, and the light snuffling of the two wolves on the floor beside them…

 

…and all at once, for the first time since his regeneration, Rose Tyler felt she was home.  Sure he was different that both of the men in her past.  So different to the man he would become in his future.  Different, but still very much the same.    Her first Doctor was a quiet lover, a focused lover, a man who wanted control and wielded it like a sword.  Her second Doctor, a scared and timid man who would rather run that try and touch her.   And now this one: wild, loud, and so ready to completely give in and lose control.

 

One thing that made them all the same to her:  She loved him.   She loved him with everything she had inside her.  As long as she was with him, then she was home – and she never wanted to leave again.

 

“Doctor?” she said quietly, knowing she was about to interrupt his attempt at slumber yet again.

 

He chuckled against her shoulder blade.  “Yes, Rose?”

 

“Can I stay with you a while longer?” she asked, ending her question with an apprehensive bite at her bottom lip.

 

He moved against her, obviously content with her request.  “Of course, Rose.  I would want nothing more.”

 

She closed her eyes and felt herself finally relax.  “Thank you, Doctor.”

 

“Rose?”

 

She hummed to let him know she was listening.

 

“How long did you want to stay with me?”

 

She inhaled a deep breath and pulled his arm across her like he was – indeed – a Time Lord blanket.

 

“Forever.”