Series: Sixth and FINAL part in my 'Before, After and In-Between' series. The series is as follows:

Kissing Complete Strangers and Clinging On For Life

Cannon Fire

Never Too Late To Save Herself

Posing For Pictures As the World Explodes

Before She Sleeps

***Knowing Too Much to Stay

"Oh, this is bad," the Doctor said. "Very, very not good, and also extremely bad."

"Sorry, what?" Rose Tyler said loudly. The night was still young, so the music wasn't yet blaring so loudly that he couldn't hear anything but the ringing in his own ears, but it was still difficult to talk over.

The Doctor peered at Rose as if she was a puzzle. He reached out and poked her shoulder.

"Um, ow?" Rose said, taken aback.

Right, so he clearly wasn't still on board the TARDIS, passed out under the console yet again because he'd ignored his body's demands to get an hour or two of sleep for a few weeks too many. She wasn't some kind of a dream (this time at least). But she really shouldn't be real either.

If the Doctor wasn't mistaken – and he was fairly certain he wasn't, even though he actually was more often than he liked to admit – he'd parked the TARDIS in the year 2015, not 2005. He'd never brought Rose to this year before at all, let alone to this place. The Doctor glanced over to see Amy shaking her hips and practically devouring Rory on the dancefloor. He wondered yet again why exactly he'd let himself be talked into hanging around in a salsa club instead of skipping the TARDIS forward a few hours to pick them up when they were done.

Well, actually he knew exactly why. The dark look in Amy's eyes when he'd made the suggestion had been followed by a pointed. "Twelve years," that hadn't left him with much ground to stand on.

Then again, if he believed in things like fate, he might have thought that he'd let himself be 'persuaded' to stay for this exact reason; so that he could see her again.

But he couldn't be seeing her. Or shouldn't be, at least.

"It's like someone took two parallel lines – lines which should never never meet, by the way, unless you're looking to make a very, very big bang – and then they took those lines and pushed them off course so that they collided, or intersected, or something," he explained. "Not really a perfect metaphor, since the lines aren't straight, and they're not exactly even lines, but easiest you just think about it that way. Less complicated for everyone, you see. So, parallel lines."

Rose looked silently bemused. He wasn't sure whether her expression was because the loud beat of the music had covered up most of what he'd said, making it somewhat indicipherable, or because the music actually hadn't done that, and it still sounded like jibberish to her all the same.

"Had a bit too much to drink, have you?" she asked.

"Sorry," he said. "Talking too much. I do that a lot. Bad habit. I'm trying to kick it, but I clearly haven't had much success yet, judging by your face. I mean, don't get me wrong, it's a very nice face. Definitely nice. More than nice. It's just... yeah, moving on. Don't worry about it, though. This can be fixed. Definitely." He paused. "Almost definitely. The world might still explode, though, if we're very unlucky, and I usually seem to be. You should really watch out for that."

Rose laughed and the Doctor's hearts felt like they jerked in his chest at the sound of it, and the sight of the accompanying smile. "I know what you mean. Seems like watchin' out for that sort of thing, tiptoein' around so's one reality or another doesn't go 'boom' around me, seems to be pretty much all I ever do these days."

Ah, the Doctor realised, the details finally clicking. Blue jacket. He knew that jacket. When he very occasionally let down his guard enough to allow dreams to sneak in, they were often of her arms, covered in that jacket, wrapping themselves around a man who looked just like him (what he'd looked like back then, not what he looked like now), but wasn't quite him all the same.

It was hard to tell where and when she was up to in her travels. Had she run into younger-him yet, before he'd ever known to love the way the name 'Rose Tyler' rolled over his tongue? She probably hadn't run into an older-him even further down his own timeline, given the way she didn't seem to recognise his new face. Of course, that might have just meant that she'd finally figured out how precarious her position was, and that she should be very careful about letting people know that she'd already met them, even though they hadn't met her. Then again, it was Rose. Whatever other wonderful things he could have said about her, 'careful' wasn't really the first adjective that sprang to mind.

"I sorta ended up here, away from all that, by chance. Luck of the draw, I guess you'd call it," Rose continued thoughtfully. "It's nice to be somewhere normal for a change." She looked at him speculatively. "How about you? No offence, but you sorta stick out in a place like this." She reached out and tugged lightly on the bowtie. "Not really a clubbing get-up."

"Bowties are cool," he said reflexively.

"On what planet?" Rose laughed.

"Six hundred and fifty-seven of them, currently. I checked."

Rose shook her head, amused at his expense but in an oddly warm-hearted way. It was an expression she'd often worn when he went off on one of his many tangents, and seeing it made him ache for times long gone.

"But even though I'm very cool, thank you," the Doctor said pointedly, "this isn't really my sort of place, no."

Rose leaned in towards him, and his eyes fell closed as he breathed her in.

Her voice was much more easily distinguishable, now that it was closer to his ears, when she suggested, "We should get out of here, then."

The Doctor's eyes snapped open and he stared at her, stunned. He'd seen Rose Tyler flirt before, but never so obviously. Certainly never with him, at least.

"I... where would we go?" he asked, trying to hide his nerves. "I know a place nearby that does the best Italian in Spain in this century. Or I could take you for real Italian, if you'd prefer, since what's the point in a Spanish Italian restuarant, anyway?"

Rose laughed. "You're a bit hopeless, aren't you?" she said, and didn't elaborate any further.

He let her guide him out of the club, not even sparing a glance at Amy and Rory. They knew where the TARDIS was parked, when they were ready to leave.

It was such a bad idea to go with Rose, knowing that anything he did with her had the potential to change things, but he couldn't quite help himself.

How could he say no?

He wasn't as thick as he sometimes pretended when it came to intimate human behaviour. He knew exactly what she had to have meant when she proposed they 'get out of here'. It hurt that she might consider jumping straight into bed with a man she'd (as far as she was concerned) only just met. However, even though he wished she could have waited just a little longer to make it back to him, he knew how long and hard this journey had been for her and could understand why she might need some comfort.

She ran a hand down his chest, and the Doctor leaned into her touch. He wasn't sohurt that he didn't still want to have this time with her, if that was what she wanted as well.

Perhaps it was a good thing she didn't know who he was after all. All of those consequences that he'd always used to dwell on whenever she left him alone in the console room to go and grab a few hours of sleep at a time didn't apply, because he'd likely never see her again either way (although he'd certainly been proven wrong about thatenough times before to have a niggling doubt).

The temptation was almost overpowering. The still-familiar scent of Rose Tyler just inches away was almost like an aphrodisiac. Her lower lip glistened just enough to hold his gaze even though he was determined to drink in the sight of every square inch of her. Her hand found his and still felt utterly right despite the fact that he'd regenerated since the last time they'd touched.

He needed her so much in that second that he almost seriously feared it would make him regenerate againif he denied himself.

And yet he had to.

"Wait," he said. "We can't."

Rose sighed. "No, I didn't figure you'd let it go any further. You've always been a man of action in every way but that one; I didn't really expect that'd changed, even if you have in loads of other ways."

The Doctor met her eyes and realised that he'd been fooling himself far more effectively than he had her. She knew. Of course she knew.

"When did you figure it out?" he asked.

Rose shrugged. "Dunno, really. I wasn't sure, at first. But I figured, 'I'm in Barcelona, so why not? Stranger things've happened.' Maybe it's the city, not the planet, but I still always figured we'd end up here together one day. The English-speakin' was enough to make me wonder, but the dead giveaway was the ramblin'. You didn't lose that in the regeneration. Or is it regenerations, now? Knowin' you, you've probably gone through a couple."

"Just the one," the Doctor admitted. "Still working out the kinks, as well. My haircut keeps fluctuating all over the place on its own, and I still can't find more than five types of food that these new tastebuds actually like."

Rose tried to hide her pained expression, but she wasn't quite successful. She didn't say it, but the Doctor hardly needed to touch his fingertips to her temples to read her mind at that moment.

He'd admitted to having only regenerated once, and not that long ago, and yet it was apparent that already the two of them weren't together anymore. He wondered whether she'd already had her run-in with him just a few months after he'd left her behind, when he'd fobbed her off with a weak excuse about her being off with her mother (which was the truth, but barely). This would probably cast a much different light on that for her.

He wished he could reassure her that their separation hadn't been by choice, but not only would that potentially cause some kind of paradox, it would also be a lie. He might fleetingly regret the decision sometimes, in lonely moments when his hand felt a little too empty, but the decision had still been his to make. His and hers. She'd chosen as well, in the end.

It was suddenly too painful to even look at her. He knew he was a coward, but accepting that didn't decrease his need to retreat from all of the lure and heartsache that came as a package deal with one Rose Tyler.

"You know, it's dangerous for you to be here," the Doctor forced himself to say dispassionately. "This shouldn't have happened."

She raised her eyebrows and pulled sharply away from him. "Oh. Right. Sure. Sorry I showed up unwanted, then. You've made it clear enough every other time I've run into you that me bein' near you's a bad thing. Guess I should've got a clue earlier."

The Doctor managed to hold himself still for a grand total of about three and a half seconds before his hands shot out and grabbed both of hers, anchoring her there with him.

"Rose Tyler," the Doctor said sadly, and it sounded both undeniably familiar and completely odd to hear her name spoken with that different voice of his. "It's not a matter of what I want. Never that. But you're a little bit too far off course again, you see. Understandable. You're using 21st century human technology to travel through space, which humans don't get really good at for many millennia, and also to travel through time, which humans don't manage to do properly until... well, ever, to be completely honest with you. Time Agents only think they're talented at it. They always caused messes that I had to go clean up for them. Which is exactly why," the Doctor said, "you can't be here. There's too much potential for time to be damaged."

"Worse than those times I ran into you before?"

"So much worse," he confessed. He couldn't go into the whole problem of the universe having completely rebooted so that this wasn't quite her world anymore. Not only couldn't she know about that, but it was just way too complicated to be getting into. They didn't have that kind of time, as much as he might have wished they could. "You have to go," he said firmly, hating that he had to make her go.

Rose laughed humourlessly. "You always were rubbish at goodbyes."

She hesitated, though he didn't think it was because she expected him to change his mind. She just looked at him as if memorising him. "See you then, Doctor," she said.

Yes, she would. As for him, though... There was nothing to say that he wouldn't run into her again (or that she wouldn't run into him, more to the point). Just because it hadn't already happened for either of them yet didn't mean it never would. She'd run into him in her travels enough time before to set a precedent.

But this was so much worse than that last unexpected meeting between them. Then, in the terrible aftermath just after leaving her in that other universe, he'd known he would somehow find a way to go see her one last time, to say the goodbye he hadn't allowed himself on that beach. Looking forward to that moment had been more vital than breathing in keeping him going through his loneliness.

Now there was no guarantee. He might never see her again. This might be how they left things between them, at least for him.

Rubbish at goodbyes, he thought bitterly. "You don't know the half of it," he whispered as she walked away.

There was an almost tangible change in the air when, once around a corner and out of sight, her Dimension Cannon whipped her away. The night suddenly seemed quieter. Too quiet.

The Doctor made his way back towards the club to try to wash that feeling away with a now-welcome overload of too much noise.

When Amy was finally done dancing two hours later, pulling a compliant Rory behind her, she brashly commented that he seemed sadder and wanted to know why.

He forced a smile, but didn't answer.

There were some things that were just his burden to bear.

When Rose found the right Doctor – the one that finally just seemed completely happy to see her rather than worried that her appearance might make the universe implode, she was horrified to find that he was regenerating already.

She knew now exactly where that road led. He couldn't. Not yet.

She'd thought that she could handle the idea that one day they'd be parted again, but she'd hoped that at least she could have herlifetime with him, if not his.

She'd wanted years. Decades. Now she wondered if she'd be lucky to get a few weeks, considering what that older version of the Doctor had implied.

Typically, he pulled off something that he fobbed off as science but that was clearly some kind of magic, as so many things about him seemed to be. But the fear that that day when she lost him again couldn't be far off, once aroused, lurked in the back of her mind.

She knew him all too well. He knew how often he risked his life, and how close he often came. How long would it be until he got himself regenerated again, this time for real? Would she have to spend the rest of her time with him waiting in constant trepidation until that day that signified the beginning of the end for them?

It turned out, though, that she had a choice.

As the TARDIS disappeared without the other Doctor even sparing her a goodbye, Rose looked at the Doctor that still stood solidly beside her.

This man would never have to become that lonely person who met her in a club by chance and pushed her away. He was holding on tight to her hand with no signs that he ever wanted to let go, though he seemed worried that she way she'd started running after the disappearing TARDIS meant she'd changed her mind now that reality was hitting.

She dispelled that concern the best way she knew how. She kissed him again, slowly this time, and not just in the heat of the moment after he'd told her that he loved her. She explored his mouth, which seemed so familiar even though she'd only kissed it once before while she'd been possessed. When the kiss ended, they shared a smile.

Even though she knew she'd never again see that other Doctor – in any of his regenerations – and no matter how much it might hurt, the choice had been made.

And she knew it was the right one.

~FIN~