A/N: So every nerd and their mother watches Dr. Who, but I never got around to it... till this winter break! I can't say I'm a hardcore Whovian, I don't love every aspect of the show - but Rose and the Doctor, especially Ten, stole my shipper heart and tore it to pieces. 3 Oh boy. I've seen every episode, but Ten is forever my Doctor and Rose forever my favorite companion... Matt Smith just can't compare to David Tennant, I'm sorry... Anyway!

Enjoy my first piece of Doctor/Rose fluff/angst. More to come I'm sure.

Words: 1045
Characters: Ten, Rose
Time: Season 2 ish
Genre: Angst/Romance

Disclaimer: Everything you recognize belongs to whoever owns Doctor Who. Not me.

Even though Rose had her own room in the TARDIS, she often fell asleep on his couch in front of the main controls. If she were anyone else, he'd be annoyed; he'd wake her up and tell her to move so he could fly.

But it was Rose. She'd nod off sometimes on his shoulder. Too often, the Doctor forgot that humans needed to sleep once every sixteen hours or so. After a particularly long and trying journey, Rose barely lasted five minutes after sitting down next to him.

"Where are we going next, Doctor?" she yawned, sitting close to him so their arms and legs touched. Without thinking, he lifted his arm and rested it across her shoulders.

"Oh, it'll be a grand surprise for you, when you wake up," he said. Sure enough, Rose's eyes were already fluttering closed.

"We're not lost, are we?" she mumbled.

"I'm never lost!"

Rose managed to smile and roll her eyes before she cuddled closer to him and fell asleep.

The Doctor slowed the TARDIS down so they would travel a bit more quietly and smoothly. He didn't want to wake her up. She was so warm next to him, and comfortable, like her body was meant to fit against his. The final puzzle piece that made him whole.

He realized his was staring at her sleeping face, that tiny half-smile still on her lips, her hair messy and tangled. She was so young, even for a human, and yet capable of so much… capable of saving his life, saving whole worlds. She restored his spirit, his soul, all in a few short months. And yet he imagined he could see laugh lines forming at the corners of her eyes, her steps becoming shakier, her hair becoming grayer… as he aged not at all. He saw her dying in his arms, an old woman, and him no different than the day they met, left to mourn her and miss her for an eternity.

Gently he tucked a few lose strands of hair behind her ear. His fingers got lost on the way there, brushing across the skin of her cheek, her jaw, her lips…

She shifted in her sleep. Her lips opened and closed briefly against the tip of his finger, like a kiss, unconscious and soft. Both of the Doctor's hearts skipped a beat, and he pulled his hand away at once, chills trailing down his spine.

Oh, Rose Tyler. Had he ever loved one so much as her, in all his years? His heart strained with the pain of it, and the glory; love was enthralling, emboldening, and yet here he was, hiding it away behind trip after trip and planet after planet. If they were always on the move, there was no time to worry about unspoken feelings. There was no time for him to fall in love with every rise and fall of her chest, to memorize the feel of her body sleeping next to his, to wish more than anything he could have one heart, like hers, and it would belong to her, even more than it ever did to the sky and the stars.

"It's beautiful, Doctor," Rose murmured suddenly. He could see her eyes moving behind her eyelids; she was dreaming. "Beautiful…"

He knew she loved him, too. And that hurt him all the more. Depriving himself of her, as he knew he must do, caused her so much pain and sadness… but it would save her, in the end. A life together was the one adventure they would never have.

It was too much. Slowly the Doctor drew away from her, cradling her carefully until she was lying on the couch. He folded his jacket for her to use as a pillow and, noticing her shiver, ran through the TARDIS until he found a blanket. He tucked it around her, making sure it covered her bare feet, too.

"Good night, Rose Tyler," he murmured, and kissed her forehead. It was all he could do to step away, when her lips were slightly open, her face angled toward his, her arms resting such that her hands might be reaching for him…

Those hands that suddenly held his face, her eyes were open, her gaze clear and focused. She pulled his lingering lips to her own. Her tongue touched his, her teeth grazed his lower lip, and he was kissing her back, tangling his hand in her hair. He tasted her, breathed her in, and she was like a drug, like drink, and he couldn't pull away…

No, no, no, you swore you wouldn't…

"It's beautiful," Rose said again, mumbling against his lips. "It's so beautiful…"

The Doctor jerked his head back. She reached for him, but blindly; her eyes were flickering closed, her posture relaxing.

"You're dreaming," the Doctor murmured. "You're still dreaming, Rose…"

She was still again, and so was he. After a few moments, he touched his fingers to his lips, still remembering the feel of hers hot against them.

The next morning, Rose woke to find him standing next to the controls. "Sorry, Doctor. I didn't mean to fall asleep here again."

"Oh, it's no problem," the Doctor said, focusing entirely on the TARDIS control. "Perfect timing, by the way. We're almost there."

"Almost where?"

He couldn't help but turn and smile at her now. "Well, I'm not entirely sure, but I think you'll like it! Did… did you sleep well?" He added as an afterthought, looking away again.

Her laugh was full and warm. "Yeah, I did, I suppose. I did have… a dream, though… I thought it was – it couldn't have been, though. Let's go, Doctor. I want to see where we are!"

He listened as she jumped to her feet and rushed over to the door. His pulse slowed, his hearts stilled, both relieved and disappointed at the same time. I shouldn't. I shouldn't stay with her. I should send her home, before it becomes any harder.

And yet, when he walked to her side and grabbed his hand, her excited laugh stole his soul all over again, shattered any shred of resolve he might have developed. He knew he was, indeed, completely lost. To her touch, her smile. To all of her.