A short ficlet, or maybe a prologue to something longer, depending on response. Hopes for the 50th anniversary. Or at least one version of them.

He saw her. After all those years, after all the heart break, after the regeneration, loosing beautiful Amelia Pond and Rory the Roman. The Doctor straightened his bowtie and took a nervous gulp of air, when Clara saw her too.
"Doctor?" asked Clara, curious about why this goofball was acting so serious all of a sudden when he saw that woman. "Who is she?"
He opened his mouth to respond, until a man came to grab her hand. A man holding a beautiful baby girl with dark blond curls tumbling down her tiny back. He recognized him too, a shadow of his former self.
"Doctor?" Clara asked insistently, burningly curious, as new companions always are.
"Rose Tyler," he breathed.
And it was as if he had turned on a switch. His beautiful former companion zeroed in on him as he said her maiden name and she smiled.
He didn't even have to say anything. Clever Rose already knew. She said a sentence to the man and took off in a sprint towards him. He couldn't help it, he ran towards her too. And when they finally met in the middle and hugged each other like the world was ending, the Doctor realized something.
No matter how many regenerations he had undergone, the new things he learned, the changes he made, he was always the same man. And this man had never loved another like he loved his pink and yellow human, the Bad Wolf, Rose Marion Tyler.