A/N: What can I say? The Doctor and Rose pounced on my imagination and wouldn't leave it alone until I wrote this. Besides, Rose promised to give me her very cool skirt if I got this finished.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything Doctor Who-related. If I did, the Doctor would pounce on my imagination a lot more often. Giggle.

'Rose! Come on, we're going to lose them again!'

She hovered uncertainly on the stairs, eyeing up the television set suspiciously. If she rushed to the Doctor, she would spend precious seconds forcing her way past the small family gathered at the bottom of the stairs, precious seconds clambering onto the moped in those ridiculously impractical heels. They would lose the policemen anyway. However, if she stayed here, she knew he'd have no hesitation in leaving without her (that was the main difference between this Doctor and the old one, she thought before she could stop herself). And she was a big girl. She could do things on her own, couldn't she?

Or perhaps she just needed to prove that, if he could go charging through a mirror and forget all about her, she could go inspect a television and pretend to forget all about him.

The moped revved off into the distance and she edged towards the television, more thrilled than frightened by the pink waves fizzling from it. Life with the Doctor gave you a higher 'fear threshold', after a while. Besides, he was gone and something mysterious was going on – if she listened to Sarah Jane, then she was his assistant, and it was therefore her job to get to the bottom of it.

She mentally slapped herself for turning her thoughts into an episode of Scooby-Doo.

Magpie's? Where did she know that name?

Oh, right. Televisions for a fiver, trundling little black van, bad braces. What did she do now? Doing things by herself shouldn't stop at simply finding out where the television had come from. All the televisions, she realised with a start. A street full of them. A street full of faceless monsters. Ordinary people were being struck down and changed and the only new thing in the house was a television…a Magpie television.

'You! Get out of my house!'

'Alright, alright, I'm done! I'm going.' And she was – but not until she had reprimanded Mr C on hanging his flags upside down. She'd had no idea when she was eleven that her mother's current 'acquaintance' with the rather annoying, hearty sailor would ever come in so useful.

Sarah Jane investigated. Why shouldn't she?

The worried feeling that blossomed up in her stomach was subdued slightly by the bubble of pride slowly ascending through her body at the thought that she had figured it out, all by herself, without the Doctor.

The last thing to run through her mind as that television set took her face, took her soul, was that she was a stupid ape for ever thinking she could do any of this by herself. This was why she shouldn't investigate by herself.

And, hours later, when she saw that smile spread across his face and felt her own lips mirror his expression, both of them smiling so loudly they didn't need to speak, she realised. It didn't matter that she couldn't do it on her own. It was better with two, anyway.

---

He stared off into the distance, pretending to be intent on Eddie's steady progression up the street, or perhaps absorbed in his orange juice (whichever was the most convincing), secretly hanging onto Rose's every word.

'You're smart enough to save the world. Don't stop there.'

Did Tommy know why she was saying that? Could he guess why it was so important to her? Perhaps he did, perhaps he didn't, but an oddly contended yet miserable look settled itself over Rose's features as she watched the young boy walk away. He knew why it mattered so much. Rose had now gone through losing her father four times; three of them with the Doctor by her side, and it never got any easier.

He remembered how she'd fiercely fought against crying once they had left the alternate universe behind; made tea, cooked chips, acted like everything was normal. Hours later, he'd stood outside her bedroom door, listening to her sob, wondering why she thought she couldn't cry in front of him. He wanted to hold her but felt that, so soon after the loss of Mickey, it would be the wrong thing to do. It wouldn't have been appropriate.

She was standing near enough to be held right now, tapping a little tune out with her foot, pink skirt swaying around, smile dancing lightly around her mouth. He wondered if it would be appropriate now. He shifted so that his own foot was perpendicular to the ground, the toe of his converse resting on the pavement, bopping the other off the ground to the music appreciatively.

''Course he's an idiot – like I said, he's your dad.' Even when Pete Tyler let her down, she'd wanted another chance. She would have given him all the chances in world, just like she persuaded Tommy to go after his father despite everything the man had done. If the Doctor was no second chances, Rose Tyler was all the chances in the world…but today, he himself had seen Eddie wasn't all bad, had wanted Tommy to keep his father in his life. Perhaps Rose was rubbing off on him.

The Doctor grinned and wrapped a long arm around her shoulders, pulling her into his side. She automatically tilted her head to rest on his shoulder, not in the least bit shocked by the sudden contact. 'You,' he muttered fondly, bending his head slightly towards her and pulling on his ear with his spare hand, 'Are amazing, you know that?'

The smile grazing Rose's lips widened as she looked up at him. Oh, yes. Definitely better with two.