The Only Exception
AKA "The Doctor Waxes Wangst While Navel-Gazing, and Rose is His Woobie – with a Songfic Title!"
(I do hope it comes off better than that.)

A/N: I'm a few years late to the /DW/ universe, but better late than never. I murdered all of glorious season one in a weekend and love it to death and want to squeeze it and hug it and call it George. I only felt like tweaking the universe because I wanted to see more Nine; he was gone too soon! That and I'm a hopeless romantic when it comes to [re]writing fiction, although it was delivered on in the actual show, to a point, which surprized me and made me a very happy camper.
Warning: If you don't like angst, leave now.
Characters: Nine (PoV), Rose, Jackie, Adam, Jack, OC, and so on.
Wanted: Reviews, good and bad. Essssspeccccially if I've written anything out of character, or if I've done something evil from a plot/PoV/cliché standpoint, or if I failed at Britspeak (American here), or if I could do better at it (I tried not to overwrite the dialect for readability reasons, but if I missed anything obvious), ***PLEASE*** bring it to my attention! This fic is first and foremost for me to practice writing, so I would like to use it to improve. Also welcome are suggestions of things you wanted to see but didn't see or things you didn't think were needed or didn't work. Etc. Thankee. :) I would further love to hear what you like about any of it otherwise.
Disclaimer: I don't own squat. I have also taken the liberty of quoting and misquoting various episodes. Hopefully that's not a problem.

-.-.-

Rose | Appreciation

-.-.-

Students? I like her. Quick and clever, this one. Not so easy to rattle, either.

...

Huh. That's odd; I don't normally get challenged and reprimanded like that by some little upstart human, nor one that's just come aboard the TARDIS for the first time. Maybe, your alien comment notwithstanding, you're not experiencing as much of a culture shock as I thought. After all the death I've seen... maybe I've managed to lose track of what even one individual's loss means to everyone else, even if he is theoretically still alive. While I'm not there yet, I think it's a perspective I shouldn't mind rediscovering.

...

I catch you mid-gallant-swing and hold you for a split second in a hug. You did it! If it would be appropriate to kiss you in pure appreciation right now without scaring you off, I might just would have.

...

He tethers you to the spot, petrified of what I and the TARDIS might be or do. In remarkable contrast, wonder shines at me in your eyes. You're comfortable around me, and I could use someone bold and capable and caring like you. I need someone like you to help pick back me up. So despite your rooted distance, I get my hopes up and ask, smile on my face, arms crossed to steady and belie my self-conscious awkwarness. After a millennium, I may have found the ideal companion to keep me company, hold my hand, remind me why life is important. ...all until you notice and acknowledge his neediness. The regret and the note of hollowness is apparent in your voice when you choose between us and tell me you can't choose me. As if you were the earthquake, I am where the tsunami hits; that regret multiplies before washing over me, knocking back and drowning out the impassioned optimism you had built up in me.

I try not to let on the effect your words have had. "Okay." I don't want to tell you a final goodbye, so I don't. I only hope I'll run into you again some day by accident. Maybe.

Your eyes are locked with mine. I try not to stare, transfixed, but for a few moments I can't help myself; it's a tangible vision of what I've been missing. I finally bow out of your statuesque presence, closing the door in front of me.

By the time I'm back in the vortex, it occurs to me you didn't even agree to 'seeing me around'. In my disappointment, I'd shut you out before I could win you over. No, definitely not a goodbye, then. I saw your face, and I know where you'd rather be, and it definitely wasn't seeing to that idiot in your little human flat. You were right there on the verge of changing your mind, I know it. Just a little nudge is all you would have needed.

I can count the number of people I've asked — the ones who didn't themselves ask or suggest or simply stick around — on one hand. I've never asked anybody twice. Not ever. But I think you're worth it. I need someone like you, someone who can make me better.

I have to go back.

When I pop open the door, I shift aside my pride and slap an air of happy confidence onto my face to make it at least sort of seem like I wasn't begging. I casually drop that the TARDIS also travels in time. Your smile, even if considered, tells me all I need to know about the next choice you'll make. Yes. Best chat-up line ever, so to speak. Envigorated, and without a glance at the lump you're leaving behind, I jump back and half run, half skip up the ramp to the console and wait on what you'll decide for your following choice — backwards or forwards in time, with me.

-.-.-

A/N: The other chapters are longer and less disjointed.