Title: Everything Old Is New Again

Author: trustno1

Pairing: Ten/Rose (kinda)

Spoilers: Huge ones for the last scene of TCI (i.e. all dialogue from the last ten minutes or so makes up the majority of this fic)

Disclaimer: I do own a sonic screwdriver, a TARDIS and a dalek. However, they aren't real, and the real Doctor Who related things don't belong to me.

AN: I wrote this shortly after TCI aired and I completely fell in love with David Tennant as the Tenth Doctor. It's kind of the character's thoughts in the last scene (or my idea of their thoughts) and a little extension after the episode. Let me know how I did!

II

"…Everything's new," the Doctor said, sneaking a side-glance at Rose, who had sidled up next to him. She was looking away, however, not at him.

"And what about you? What are you gonna do next?" she asked, her voice betraying a hint of nervousness, and her eyes still focus on the ground, where snow-like ash continued to fall.

"Well," he began, as if thinking about this for the first time. He looked down at Rose, hoping to catch her eye. "Back to the TARDIS, same old life." She was nervously chewing her nails now, but glanced up at his words, her dark brown eyes meeting his… brown ones, he thought… and looking hopeful. And beautiful.

"O-on your own?" she stammered.

"Why, don't you wanna come?" They continued to stare at each other.

"Well, yeah." She scalded herself for sounding so weak, as though she were having doubts about staying with him.

"Do you though?" he asked, praying she'd say yes.

"Yeah!" she replied, more forcefully this time.

"I just thought…" he looked away, still uncertain in this new body, "coz I'd changed…" He glanced back and saw her smile at him.

"Yeah, I-I just thought… coz you'd changed… you might not want me anymore." There, she'd said it. At first it had been the other way around – when he had first changed, she wondered how she'd be able to travel with someone that didn't look anything like her Doctor, and for all she knew, may act completely differently to her Doctor. But after fighting the Sycorax, and his little speech about 'what sort of man am I?', she realised he wasn't that different in character after all.

But the Doctor was smiling sincerely. She saw her old Doctor's grin in there, and the way his eyes lit up eagerly.

"Oh, I'd love you to come!"

"Okay!" she said quickly, grinning back and holding his gaze until she heard Mickey from behind them.

"You're never gonna stay, are you?" he asked resignedly, as they both whirled round. Rose looked apologetically at him, softening her voice.

"There's just so much out there. So much to see. I've… got to," she said, unable to think of a better way of explaining it than that. But he seemed to accept it, and whispered 'yeah' softly. She drew her eyes away before she could see the hurt in his.

"Well I reckon you're mad," Jackie piped up, and Rose grinned to herself. She didn't think it'd be long before her mum gave her opinion. "The pair of you. It's like you go looking for trouble!" The Doctor bounded over to her then, something Rose hadn't quite gotten used to yet: the fact that the Doctor seemed to like Jackie a lot more.

"Trouble's just the bits in between!" he said excitedly, putting an arm around her shoulders and looking up towards the heavens. "It's all waiting out there, Jackie. And it's all brand new to me," he said, and Rose smiled, seeing her other Doctor's eagerness and enthusiasm shining through again. "All those planets. Creatures and horizons: I haven't seen them yet. Not with these eyes." He walked back over to Rose, knowing his next statement would seal the deal, as it were, in persuading her he was still the Doctor. Still her Doctor. "And it's gonna be…" he paused for emphasis, grinning at Rose and remembering doing the same thing a lifetime ago. "Fantastic!"

Her face lit up as he uttered his trademark word that, for a terrifying moment she thought he'd forgotten or… changed, when he paused. But it was still the same, as was the manic grin, shining eyes, and childish enthusiasm, just with a different body; different eyes, hair, mouth, hand… Which he extended to her hopefully. She grinned and pointed nervously at it.

"That hand of yours, still gives me the creeps," she smiled, half-joking. He merely smiled back, as their hands locked together. And though his hand was slightly smaller and thinner this time, she felt the same cool strength she always felt; the same spark of energy that passed between them; the same fluttering in the region of her stomach.

He grasped Rose's hand tightly, imprinting in his memory exactly how her hand felt in his, just as his previous self had done whenever they held hands, which was often. It was strange; he remembered what it was like to take Rose's small, warm hand in his, but the memory seemed to mingle with the reality of what it felt like through this body. Holding hands now, he was more aware than everof every nerve in his hand, the contours of each as they fit snugly together. And Rose felt stronger than she did before, and she held more tightly, as if they were running for their lives instead of standing outside the flats, gazing up at the sky. As if she were afraid to let go of him.

This thought was almost confirmed as Rose drew in a breath ready to speak, and instinctively moved closer to him, their shoulders and sides touching, her hand brushing away a speck of ash (not snow) on the sleeve of his coat that neither of them could see. It reminded the Doctor of a Christmas a lifetime ago – literally. When they were in Cardiff, 1869: a lifetime and a half for Rose, a lifetime for him. He had just rescued her from the clutches of Gelth invaded corpses, wrapping a protective arm around her waist as he questioned the aliens. He could remember this vividly, even now; he remembered how beautiful she'd looked, how natural it felt to be holding her in this way, after only a few days of knowing each other. And he recalled how she had kept brushing her fingers along the lapels of his leather jacket, as if to make sure he was still there. Just like she was doing now, running her hand up and down his coat, occasionally pausing to run her fingers along the cuff. He wondered if she knew she was even doing it, as he pointed up to the heavens in response to her question.

"Um… that way." Rose moved her head closer to the Doctor's so she could see where he pointed. "No, hold on… that way." He turned his head to watch Rose gaze up at the sky, pointing where he did, a look of wonder on her face that he had seen so many times before, but never with these eyes. Had she always looked so beautiful when she did that?

"Yeah, that way," she repeated, smiling at him and nudging closer, as they returned theireyes to their next adventure.

"Is that it then? You're going again?" Jackie asked quietly after a few moments. "Coz we haven't had Christmas pudding yet…" She smiled nervously at her daughter. Though resigned to the fact that Rose was never going to stay, she was silently pleading with her not to go just yet, to stay that little bit longer.

Rose looked over to the Doctor, still unsure as to whether he'd want to stay – he'd already stayed far longer than she knew her old Doctor would have done, but she was as yet uncertain where he'd draw the line. Christmas pudding wasn't it, apparently. His face stretched into another smile as he glanced at Rose, as if asking her approval.

"Christmas pudding! Well, what's Christmas without some nice Christmas pud?" he asked, giving Rose's hand a tug as he headed towards the flat.

II

The TARDIS door closed with a click behind them as the Doctor headed for the controls and Rose dumped her bag next to the couch that she sank gratefully into.

"I'm just gonna put this in my room," Rose said after a few minutes silence, picking up the bag again. The Doctor nodded, knowing that she'd need a while on her own to think some things over. Nevertheless, he was loath to let her go. He knew his previous self might have let her get on with it – he had done on occasion – but now, he really wanted to go to her, to talk about… things. He made a compromise with himself, deciding to wander in the direction of her room after five minutes and check on her.

Rose perched on the end of her bed and pulled out the contents of her rucksack. Amongst the presents her mum and Mickey had bought her, was the Doctor's – the old Doctor's, she told herself – leather jacket that she found discarded on the bedroom floor. She'd actually forgotten about it, and a wave of guilt had swept over her as she carefully placed it in with her belongings. The guilt resurfaced as she smoothed the fabric out and hugged it close, savouring the scent of the Doctor that lingered on his trademark jacket. Rose could see her old Doctor in this new Doctor, in some of his mannerisms, his opinions, his smile, the intense look he gave her as she walked into the TARDIS – the one filled with so many emotions that Rose wondered how they could all be contained; the one that made her heart jump and butterflies dance within her. The one that he was giving her right now as he stood on the threshold of her room.

She gave his a weak smile and motioned that he could come in, which he did gratefully, taking a seat next to her.

"Came to see how you were," he said by way of explanation, not needing to ask why she was clutching at his previous self's jacket.

"I was thinking," she replied, turning her head to look at him. "It really is you in there, isn't it?" He nodded. "I do know that, and I can tell – you aren't so different really, except that you seem to like mum's cooking more." They both smiled at that, but the Doctor said nothing. "It's just… do you ever think of your last self as a different person?" She met his eyes, hoping he understood what she was trying to get at.

"Sort of, yeah. It's difficult to explain. Y'know how people in general change over time – they get older, wiser (generally speaking), change their opinions, change their friends, sometimes even their personalities?"

"Sure – I've changed, haven't I?"

"Yeah. Well, regeneration is like that in a way, only a hell of a lot more rapid. I can remember what sort of man I was, and I know how I've changed, but I don't feel like a completely different person in the way I think you might see me sometimes. I've changed a bit, but I'm still the same Doctor inside, and I can't think of my last self as someone completely different, in the same way that your mum can't think of you as anyone other than her daughter." He watched Rose ponder this, hoping he'd explained it right.

"So, you don't mind if occasionally I…" Rose held the jacket up, glancing nervously at the Doctor. To her relief he smiled kindly.

"I'd be offended if you didn't," he smiled, putting an arm around her and hugging her close. "It'll get easier though, I promise." He felt her nodding against his shoulder.

"It's okay already. It's just when I start to think about it, and how easily I trusted you again, that I feel guilty, like I've betrayed him. And then I look at you, and realise you're still here, and it's… confusing," she admitted. This time it was the Doctor's turn to nod silently, thinking again how amazing this woman was that she was coping as admirably as she was. He placed a chaste kiss on her forehead, because it felt like the right thing to do, and pulled himself off the bed.

"Well, lots to do, lots to see – you ready for another adventure? We could go dancing on Leorian. I feel like I could be good at dancing, what d'you say?" he asked, pulling Rose off the bed and twirling her around perfectly, much to her delight.

"I say it took me ages to get you to do anything resembling dancing before," she grinned as he practically bounded out of the room, with her in tow.

"That was before – this is a new me, a new man! Like I said, I don't really know what I am yet, but I have a feeling I like dancing."

"Ah, but what kind," Rose asked slyly as they entered the control room. The Doctor stopped bouncing and looked thoughtful for a moment.

"Y'know, I don't know. Shall we find out?" He extended his hand to her, nervous excitement bubbling inside of him.

"Yeah, ok." She took it, lacing their fingers togetherand repeating a request from an age ago with asmile. "Show me your moves."