Written for beside-u-in-time, who offered a Doctor Who prompt. A drabble featuring Rose and The Doctor.

Note: I've only seen season one and part of season two so I'm still pretty new to the Doctor Who universe. Give this Whovian a break. Also this is The Tenth Doctor.

She was starring at him. Starring, eyes wide, lips parted, stock still. Her cheeks were still flushed from their fleeing back to the TARDIS, but her breath seemed to have stilled in her lungs.

He to felt a bit flushed, and let out a few puffs of air as his lungs inflated and deflated rapidly. He wiped the back of his hand across his forehead before placing a hand on his hip and looking back at her. She was starring at him.

"Why are you starring at me? What? Do I have something on my face?" He asked, his own eyes a bit wide as he pointed to his face, his eyes darting about as though he could actually look and see what it was she was starring at.

Her red lips quivered slightly as she approached, stance tense, shoulders drawn up as she looked at him, head tilted ever so slightly to the side. Her brows furrowed as she looked at him. He couldn't imagine what was wrong with her. She was looking at him as though he'd grown another head. And that was impossible since he knew he hadn't regenerated, again.

"Doctor?"

The confusion and tremble in her voice was unmistakable and caused his hearts to skip a beat or two. His own brows furrowed as he frowned at her. He didn't like that tone in her voice. The last time he'd heard that tone or seen that face was when he'd regenerated. When she'd given up on him.

"What?" He asked, no longer merely worried about a spider or dirt on his face. When she didn't answer he looked around before dashing off around the Tardis consol. He bound up the stairs, taking two at a time. He could hear Rose stumbling after him. Hear her rutty sneakers pounding on the stairs as he dashed to the wardrobe.

The Doctor came to a skidding halt, (his converse squeaking slightly on the floor) and stood before the large full length mirror. His eyes widened, brow wrinkling as his mouth fell open. He leaned forward, his fingers resting against the sides of the mirror as he gaped at his reflection. Rose appeared in the mirrors reflective surface behind his. She was looking from his reflection to him, her own brow wrinkling as she worried her plump lip between her teeth.

"Oh. My. God." The Doctor breathed out, loudly, as he starred at his reflection and his reflection starred back, looking just as horrified as he did. Rose bounced behind him, hands flailing in front of her as she began to wring her fingers.

"What's happening? What do we do?" She asked quickly, but he didn't even hear her. The world outside his door could have imploded in on itself and he wouldn't have noticed.

Starring back at him, was himself…only, younger. He was the same height, but thinner, ganglier; more willowy with long skinny arms and legs. His nose wasn't quite as long and his ears not quite as big. His hair was a pinch longer and stuck up wilder than ever before.

"Good God." He mumbled, reaching a hand up to touch his face. He ran his fingers along his jaw and over his cheeks. "I'm pubescent."

"What's that mean?" Rose asked quickly in a whispered tone. He twisted his body around and gave her a look that read 'what are you daft you damn ape?' before throwing his arms up and gesturing to himself.

"I'm a bloody child!"

Rose looked him up and down. She wasn't going to let her feelings be hurt. He was under stress (she was under stress) and she knew how he got while under stress. She awkwardly crossed her arms in a small, subconscious show of defense.

"You, you don't look like a child." She remarked, her shoulder shrugging upward slightly before falling back down unenthusiastically.

The Doctor returned his gaze back to his reflection and deflated in on himself all over again as he ran his fingers over his face, pulling down his cheeks till the pink insides of his lower eyelids could be seen.

"Ooooh God. I must be…seventy…seventy-eight at the oldest. Eeeiih." He slid his hands down his chest and opened up his suit coat, examining his torso and upper body. He turned this way and that, eyes fixated on the mirror. "God I'm thinner. Thin is good but this is…this is just…I'm like a bean sprout!" He released the coat and gazed down at his legs. Lifting his feet off of the ground in a slow marching fashion, bending his knees higher and higher each time. "God. Is there any meet on my legs? At all? I have chicken legs. Chicken legs!" He quickly spun around and twisted his body around so he could look at his backside in the mirror. He ran his hand along the seat of his pants. A look of dismay washed over his features. "Awh, I don't have a tush. Look at that. I'm tushless!" He turned back to the mirror and slumped forward, head hung low, shoulders drawn forward. If his knees weren't locked he would have crumpled to the floor. Just laying on the floor of the TARDIS seemed like a pretty good course of action.

Rose, who'd remained silent through his mini-tirade glanced around before looking back at him. Her brows crinkled and she made a face, gesturing at him with a hand.

"You look like you're seventeen." She commented, not completely understanding his complaint of age. She was still so shocked that she could do little more than point out the obvious. The Doctor looked like a bloody seventeen-year-old and there was seemingly no explanation as to why.

"Time Lords age differently than humans." He commented turning away from the mirror to face her. A look of utter woe marring his thin angular face. "A Time Lord at the age of ninety is still considered a child." He pouted and jerked his shoulders in a childish manner. "I'm a bloody Time Tot!"

Despite the seemingly dire situation, Rose couldn't help but snort out a half strangled laugh as she watched The Doctor head back towards the stairs. She covered her mouth in a show of apologetic embarrassment as he turned to look back at her.

"A, a what?" She asked, trying to hold back a smile. She really shouldn't be smiling. And she certainly shouldn't want to laugh. But it just sounded so utterly ridiculous!

The pout on The Doctors face deepened as his cheeks pinkened ever so slightly with a faint blush of humiliation. Rose wanted to apologize all over again but knew it wouldn't do any good.

"It's what…baby Time Lords are called. Time Tots." He shoved his slender hands deep into his pant pockets and slumped, completely deflated. He looked wilted and depressed and Rose suddenly wished she hadn't snickered.

Guilt gnawed at her insides and she wringed her fingers as she approached him.

Stepping up beside him Rose gently placed a hand on his bony shoulder. He glanced sideways at her and she tried to offer a reassuring smile but knew she failed. How could she possibly be reassuring when she had absolutely no idea what was going on? Was this some kind of age regression that would continue to cause The Doctor to devolve until he was simply gone? Was it a permanent change? Or was it temporary? She had no idea.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have laughed."

He gazed at her a moment before the corners of his mouth curved upwards ever so slightly. He nodded and his smile grew wider.

"It's alright. I shouldn't have snapped at you. This isn't your fault after all." He let out a long sigh and she squeezed his shoulder. "I should have handled this more maturely." he shook his head and gazed up a the ceiling. "Fitting. I act so much like a child and now I am one."

Rose leaned her shoulder against his and gazed absentmindedly at the floor before shrugging and looking back up at him.

"But you're a cute child."

He looked at her and his smile grew comical.

"I look like a chicken." He deadpanned. Rose continued to stare up at him for a moment before a smile broke out on her face.

"Y-yeah. Yeah you sort of do." She laughed. He let out small bouts of laughter as she laughed uncontrolled, her body swaying slightly as she laughed unrestrained. He gripped her to keep her upright as his bouts of laughter turned into long waves.

They clung to each other as their laughter echoed throughout the TARDIS. They fed off of each others laughter. Each time they'd begin to calm down, each time they'd try to take control of their breathing they would share a glance and start up again. They laughed until tears rolled down their cheeks. Laughed until their lungs burned, their hearts tried to pound through their ribcages and their sides ached. Eventually they both collapsed onto the floor and sat, leaning on each other as their laughter gradually died down till they both sat in silence—panting to catch their breath.

Once they had regained their breath and sat in a comfortable silence Rose glanced over to The Doctor.

"Do you think it's permanent?" She asked in a quiet, curious voice. He sighed and took her hand in his, their fingers entwining. He bounced their hands up and down as he wrapped his mind around the question.

"No." He looked down at her and smiled. "It's not. I can already feel my cells aging. It will ware off."

Rose smiled, eyes crinkling slightly.

"So how long do you think you have till you're back to normal chicken boy?"

"Don't know. Hours. Maybe days. I probably should just go sleep till its over. I might age rabidly and who knows what kind of affect that would have."

Rose nodded and squeezed his hand. That was probably a good idea. She'd occupy herself until the whole mess was done and over with.

"Hmn."

"What?" She asked glancing back at him.

"I wish I had a copy of Snow White and the Seven keys to Doomsday."

Her brows furrowed and she shifted her body so she could face him more.

"Snow what and the seven what?"

He beamed at her.

"It's a fairytale that you read to young Time Lords. I remember hearing it as a child." he sighed fondly at the memory, closing his eyes a moment before opening them and tilting his head back and forth as though he were remembering the tale word for word and line for line.

Rose smiled at him and didn't say anything. He so rarely could think back to a time when he wasn't the last Time Lord with fondness that she didn't have the heart to ruin the moment. His smile was better than all of the self loathing and guilt that usually came with memories of the past.