Once upon a time, there was a man with two hearts who lived in a blue box that travelled through time and space. The man, despite his amazing blue box, was lonely, for he was the last of his people. And so he travelled, alone.
Until one day he met a girl; a pink and yellow girl with stars in her eyes who made him feel not so lonely anymore. She held his hand through time and space, and promised to stay with him forever.
And then things got complicated. His pink and yellow girl was taken from him, trapped in a place where even his magical blue box could not reach her. And even though it broke both of his hearts to be without her, he made new friends and continued to travel, missing her all the while.
And one day-one wonderful, horrible day-his pink and yellow girl came back for him. The man was so happy to have the girl back that he ran to her, ignoring the danger that surrounded him; he was shot, and the girl-who had crossed time and space to give the man her forever-was heartbroken, because she loved him more than anything.
And so the man made a choice.
He knew he could not give the girl his forever, as his forever was much, much longer than hers; but he loved this girl with the stars in her eyes, and wished more than anything that he could stay with her and make her happy for the rest of her life. So instead of regenerating, he put all of his regeneration energy into a hand in a jar…which then (through a series of complicated events) became a human version of the man: one heart, one life, one piece of coral from which to grow his own magical blue box.
And it was the man with one heart who, in the end, stayed with the pink and yellow girl who was now a woman but still had the stars in her eyes. And although this man did not have a magical blue box yet, he promised her one day he would take her back to the stars.
"Need a garden," the Doctor said as he and Rose pored over real estate listings.
"Planning on taking up gardening?" Rose asked with a smile.
"Pfft, no." He wandered over to the small aquarium where there TARDIS coral sat, and put on his glasses to examine it. "She can't live in this forever, you know. She needs room to grow! She'll never get to be a transdimensional TARDIS if we leave her cooped up inside! And we don't want that, do we? No we don't." The Doctor reached in and began to stroke the coral lovingly, almost cooing at it. "No, we want her to be a big beautiful TARDIS who will take us to Barcelona and Felspoon and Raxacoricofallapatorius! Yes we do!"
"Are you quite done baby-talking to the TARDIS?" It was all Rose could do to not burst out laughing. She'd never tell him, but she loved it when he talked to the TARDIS. She found it both endearing and sexy, the way he cooed at it, and she couldn't help but imagine what he'd be like with a child. The thought of him with a baby did funny things to her insides; funny things that made her want to shag him senseless on the nearest available surface.
He wandered back to the sofa and sat down next to her, propping his feet up on the coffee table. "An attic. Can we have an attic, do you think? No bats though, hate bats."
"So your requirements for a house are a garden and an attic with no bats?"
"And a shed. Always wanted a shed. Be good to keep my tools in. My manly tools for when I do manly work around the house." Rose snorted, and the Doctor feigned an affronted look. "Are you doubting my ability to do manly work around the house?"
"You mean like changing a bulb or unclogging a toilet?"
"You wound me, Rose Tyler." He pouted, and with a smile she leaned over and tugged at his protruding bottom lip with her teeth. Their lips met, then tongues, and when the Doctor's hand began creeping up her shirt she pulled back.
"Plenty of time for that later, yeah? We're meeting the realtor in two hours, I told her we'd have a list."
The Doctor let his head rest on the back of the sofa. "You, Rose Tyler, are no fun."
"Oi, enough of that or I won't show you just how much fun I can be later on." She picked up her pen. "Garden, attic, manly shed for manly tools. Anything else?"
"I suppose a hidden staircase or a secret room would be too much to ask for," he sighed. "No, I suppose that's it."
Rose regarded him seriously for a moment. "You okay with this? Carpets and a mortgage?"
She was rewarded with a brilliant smile that crinkled his eyes and made her fall in love with him a little more. "Ah, stuck with you? Not so bad." He grabbed her hand. "Wouldn't want to be stuck with anyone else."
In the end they'd found a lovely little Victorian house that met all of the Doctor's requirements. It had a fenced in backyard where the TARDIS could grow, and a cozy snug of an attic that the Doctor immediately banished Rose from.
They painted the house white and the door a TARDIS blue, and after awhile it began to feel less like a house and more like a home.
At night, when he couldn't sleep, the Doctor would go upstairs to the attic to do whatever it was he did. Rose would awaken and find him gone, only to be reassured by the sound of his footsteps in the attic above her. She had no idea what he did up there, it kept him happy, and she knew that he would tell her in his own time.
Six months after they moved in, Rose came home very late from work to find a note on the TARDIS blue front door, instructing her to follow the path. She opened the door to reveal a path of rose petals leading up the stairs. Grinning, she followed it, expecting it to stop at their bedroom, but instead it continued on to the attic door; taped to that door was another note, telling her to keep going. Hesitantly, she opened the door and followed the trail up to the attic.
When she reached the top of the narrow stairs, she gasped; the Doctor had transformed their attic into a virtual planetarium. The walls and ceiling were a deep, dark blue, and on them were stars and galaxies and planets, all mapped out in their relative position to the house. The perimeter of the room was strung with star-shaped fairy lights, making the room glow much like the interior of the TARDIS. The mattress from Rose's old futon lay on the floor, covered in fuzzy blankets and pillows.
And next to the window stood the Doctor, barefoot in jeans and a band t-shirt, one hand in his pocket and the other on a telescope, looking hesitant and a little nervous.
In that moment, Rose had never loved him more.
"I'm sorry it took so long," he said sheepishly. "I just wanted to make sure I got everything right, and I had to keep looking things up because I don't remember things as well as I used to, which made it take even longer than I had planned…" he trailed off and tugged on his ear before continuing. "The TARDIS, she won't be ready for awhile yet and I just…I wanted to give you the stars."
She couldn't stop the tears that came.
The Doctor saw her tears and a look of panic crossed his face. "I…I really made a right mess of this, didn't I?"
"No!" she practically shouted, laughing. "No, you daft alien, it's…beautiful. More than I deserve." Rose walked over to him and wrapped her arms around him, settling her head on his chest. "It's lovely and you're lovely and I'm lucky to have you." She looked up at him, cradling his face in her hands. "Even if we never get back out there, I will never feel one moment of regret because I have the stars right here, and what's more they were put there by the man that loves me."
Later that night they lay on the old futon mattress, sated and sleepy, and Rose watched as the fairy lights twinkled and made patterns on his chest. As the sun began to rise in the sky she would trace those patterns with her fingers and her tongue and make love to him again, with the stars bright in her eyes and her heart bursting with love for this mad, wonderful man who had hung the stars for her.
The years passed and the man with one heart lived happily with his pink and yellow girls, both of them with the stars in their eyes: one who had seen the stars in a blue box that travelled time and space, and one who was created under the stars hung by the man with one heart.