Author's Note: I do not own Doctor Who. There will be a longer author's note at the end! :) Also, there is a deleted scene from Journey's End on my profile that I reference to, so I would really appreciated it if you watched that before reading this.

~NN

"Rose, that's a wedding dress."

The elegant white dress trails behind me, the smooth material caressing the ground. The sleeves synch at my elbows with a golden ribbon and then flow down slightly past my fingertips. Light blue flowers adorn the delicate neckline and some of the fabric was gathered in the back. Golden ribbon laces up the back of the dress. "Is it? I didn't even notice." I finger the golden mask I am holding.

"Shall we?" The Doctor offers me his arm and I graciously take it. He snaps with his free hand and the door to the TARDIS opens, displaying a busy scene from a French masquerade. "The year is 1266. This is the year King Magnus VI of Norway and King Alexander II of Scotland mutually agree on the Treaty of Perth, ending the war between Scotland and Norway. Simon de Montfort was killed, and his followers tried to make peace with the Dictum of Kenilworth in October. Niccolo and Maffeo Polo, both relatives of Marco Polo, finally entered Khanbaliq, capital of Kublai Khan. That would be modern day Bejing. Gold and silver coins were produced for the first time in France." The Doctor's eyes are looking around restlessly as we leave the TARDIS, observing all the different people in this time.

"Are you sure it's 1266? You've never been very good with getting the year right." I grin up at him and he just rolls his eyes.

"I'm positive. This time I am definitely right." I put my mask on and tap the nearest stranger on his shoulder. The lanky teenager turns around to face me, his ginger hair falling onto his black mask. His green eyes meet mine and I ask, "Excuse me, but what year is it?"

"You are kidding me, right?"

"My friend seems to think it is 1266." The Doctor just watches me with an amused expression.

"It is 1266 mademoiselle." The redheaded boy nods once to me with a strange expression on his face and then turns back around to the stunning brunette he was talking to. My mouth is slightly ajar is shock and I raise an eyebrow at the Doctor.

The Doctor nudges me with his elbow. "See, I told you I was right."

"Well, that doesn't happen very often, now does it?"

"Oi, Be nice." The Doctor also puts on his mask, a mysterious black color with little specks of color that look like stars.

The music begins to arrange itself into a beautiful melody, perfect for dancing. "So, that no dancing thing… was that just a Time Lord thing or does it still apply?"

"Like I said, same memories and I think the same as him. Besides, I never said I don't dance. I danced with you last time, didn't I?"

After a while, I began to understand that the Doctor's duplicate is exactly like the Doctor and not at all like Donna, which is how I thought he would be. The second Doctor has exactly the same memories and remembers them in the same way the actual Doctor would. Because the real Doctor is never coming back, he has become my human Doctor. We grew our own TARDIS by using the instructions Donna gave us before we parted and we have been travelling ever since – the two humans in the TARDIS.

"Yes," I admit. "However, that was a full regeneration and almost a century ago."

"Technically, it is six hundred and seventy five years in the future. Back on topic, I do dance. I get a feeling that this body is quite capable of dancing well."

He offers his hand to me and I take it without hesitation. "I'll be the judge of that."

Our feet begin an elaborate pattern and our steps are in perfect timing. It seems almost effortless despite how complicated it looks because of how comfortable I am with him. The Doctor's free hand is lightly resting on my waist, sending pleasant shivers up my spine, and mine is wrapped around his shoulder. I can feel a warm sensation in my cheeks and I know my lips are turned upwards in a huge smile. His gentle brown eyes are locked on my gaze.

"I told you I'm good at this," he says without looking away.

"Actually, you told me you thought you might be capable of dancing well."

He doesn't even pause for a second. "I am, wouldn't you say?"

"Yes. Definitely."

"Too bad this isn't the 1950s. I have moves like you couldn't even imagine. I would show them to you, but we are in the middle of a room of posh French people from the medieval era. You can imagine that they wouldn't take it too well." There is a mischievous glint in his eye.

"I guess we know where we are going next then, don't we Doctor?"

He nods. "We are going to be going to diner in the 1950s where we can stay out and dance all night."

"All night? Do you think your heart can handle it Doctor? You aren't used to only having one." I give him a cheeky grin.

"Two hearts, one heart. There really can't be that much of a difference, can there?"

"Run a couple miles and you'll find out." He chuckles.

I look around at all the elegantly dressed French people with their gaudy dresses and elaborate lace-up tunics. The Doctor is wearing his usual tweed coat, his red converse, and a blue suit underneath. He doesn't exactly blend in, yet nobody seems to notice him but me. "Doctor, how come nobody is noticing you? You sort of stand out."

"It's a perception filter that the TARDIS projects. People can remember us and our faces, but our outfits are often overlooked."

I pause for a moment as I begin to make sense of what he said. "Wait, us? You mean I never had to dress up for any of the places we've been too?"

"Not really, but it does help you blend in better. Besides, how often do you get to wear clothing from the 1200s?" His face breaks out into an excited grin.

"Not often." Once again my eyes wonder around the large room. The final rays of the setting sun streams through large, tinted windows, reflecting a variety of vivid colors onto the stone floors. The walls are also stone and feel both protective and confining. What catches my eye are the large statues perched upon delicate pedestals. "Doctor, those don't look French."

He follows my gaze to the delicate stone statue, an angel with its hands covering its eyes. "Rose, we need to get out of here. Now."

Author's Note: I hope you enjoyed it! There will be two more chapters after this. I've already got the rest of it planned out. And for those who were wondering... yes, those are the Weeping Angels.

Since my last piece was about the Doctor and Rose, I decided to write one about her and the duplicate Doctor. Once again, I made reference to the deleted scene. That just seems like such a crucial piece of information, especially to fanfiction writers!

I apologize if it isn't my best work, but it is rather late and I am writing on very little sleep. If you see any errors, please let me know.

Also, it seems to me that Rose and the Doctor are a little out of character. What do you guys think? Do you know of any way to improve this?

Please review! What takes me hours to write only takes you seconds to review.

Thanks again!

~NN