' Oh Rose. You're turning into a liability, you are.

You are a dangerous distraction. You don't sleep quietly; you turn over frequently, make little noises, breathe and sometimes make squeaky sounds. I am completely incapable of finishing anything mechanical in my room. I've had to carefully transfer every diode, every screw, every nut and bolt and bit of casing off my desk one by one onto the carpet so I don't wake you up, and now I'm sitting with a piece of paper and a pen.

It's the first time I've seen the surface of my desk for centuries, quite literally.

You're asleep in my bed. Let me say that again: YOU ARE ASLEEP IN MY BED. I've always had issues with grinning inappropriately, ever since that executioner bloke from the Neeht nebula told me my smile was gorgeous, it just pops up unbidden.

But after having full on, amazing, fantastic sex on the control room floor, no less, and then again in my bedroom half an hour later, and having you tell me you LOVE me, I am beginning to get jaw ache. It's all I can do not to start jumping around the room.

This is not appropriate behaviour for a Timelord. My brain has 10000000 million neurones firing around it; right now, you're occupying all of them.

I am not giving you this. A human could have written it. Something to do to pass the time though, while you're sleeping.

You just turned over again, and predictably, I'm grinning like Captain Jack Harkness on pleasure planet 295.

You know, you dragged me round Tesco the other day (because when I came back from having been sent out the first time my shopping was apparently not acceptable), and there was this Dad bounding round with his newborn son. He kept talking to complete strangers about this brown haired bundle in his arms and he was so proud that he wanted to show everyone in the supermarket. I didn't really understand at the time; just clapped him on the back and gave him my congratulations.

Afterwards, when you were lying on my chest, you told me you wanted to start learning important alien languages (because no matter what we are doing, you nearly always tell me what's on your mind). I wanted to scream and applaud, because you've grown so much, and a year ago Rose Tyler wouldn't have thought herself capable of something so academic.

The universe is my supermarket….i'm going to show you to everyone..'

I'm crying again. There has never been a single person who has made me cry this much. Your pride in me meant – means - more than anything.

The sheet of paper was balled up, and had been shoved down the side of his desk. I remember; it was a fantastic night. Best one of my life.

And I remember the Tesco trip that he came back from with chocolate spread, salami and tofu.

He trailed off at the end there because I woke up and saw him writing completely naked at his desk, surrounded by bits of twisted metal, with this great sappy grin on his face. Things get a bit hazy after that.

I close my eyes, and for an instant, I feel his breath and his hand running up my thigh, an almost edible northern accent whispering, "Alright. Now you're asking for it…."

And then I open them again and he's not here, and all the other stuff that makes me confused, the pain you must have gone through, that I killed you, that I could have sorted it all when I had the vortex in my head is lost and I just miss you.

I really, really miss you.