AN: I haven't written anything for this series in ages. Glimpses explores the idea of the Doctor and Rose starting a relationship before he regenerated. I'm following that up and making changes to S2 along the way-things in the first half of the series especially that I think would have happened differently if they were already together. If you haven't read the rest of the series, it's listed on my profile page with links to each story. This follows A New Beginning, which was set during New Earth.

Also, the historical fact of the death of Queen Victoria's grandson drives me nuts when I watch this ep, so I worked it into the story.

The autumn mist had just burned off the Scottish heath when Dougal dropped Rose and the Doctor off a short walk from the TARDIS. "Cheers, Dougal!" the Doctor said before taking Rose's hand and walking with her up the hill towards their home.

"No, but the funny thing is," he rambled as they walked, "Queen Victoria did actually suffer a mutation of the blood. It's historical record. She was haemophiliac. They used to call it the Royal Disease." He pointed with his free hand for emphasis. "But it's always been a mystery because she didn't inherit it. Her mum didn't have it; her dad didn't have it. It came from nowhere."

Rose brushed a piece of hair back over her ear and looked at him, her eyes wide and a slight frown creasing her forehead. "What, and you're saying that's a wolf bite?"

The Doctor sucked in a breath. "Well, maybe haemophilia is just a Victorian euphemism."

"For werewolf?"

A gust of wind swept up the hill, making Rose shiver. The Doctor lengthened his stride, forcing her to jog to keep up with him, but at least they'd get home a little quicker. Her outfit was definitely not suited for Scotland in October.

"Could be."

"Queen Victoria's a werewolf?" Rose demanded.

"Could be," he repeated. "And her children had the Royal Disease. Maybe she gave them a quick nip."

Of course, one of Victoria's grandsons with haemophilia had actually died before 1879, he remembered belatedly, so there went that theory. But Rose was smiling, and really, what harm would it be if they joked a bit about the Royal Family being werewolves?

"So, the Royal Family are werewolves?"

"Well, maybe not yet," the Doctor demurred, then pretended to consider all the variables. "I mean, a single wolf cell could take a hundred years to mature. Might be ready by, oh, early 21st century?"

Rose laughed. "Nah, that's just ridiculous!" She paused and tilted her head, and he could almost see her mind working. "Mind you, Princess Anne."

The Doctor stuck the key in the lock and grinned at her. "I'll say no more." He tossed his coat over a strut and slouched down on the jump seat, patting the empty space next to him in obvious invitation.

"And if you think about it, they're very private." Rose closed the door behind her and skipped up the ramp. "They plan everything in advance," she added as she sat down next to him, letting him settle his arm around her shoulders. "They could schedule themselves around the moon. We'd never know. And they like hunting—they love blood sports. Oh my God, they're werewolves!"

The Doctor laughed, then tilted his head back and howled. Rose joined him a moment later, howling and giggling madly over the entire conversation.

Her laughter broke off with a huge yawn, and she leaned against his shoulder. "Ugh, I didn't really sleep last night," she mumbled. "Too much adrenaline, I guess. Mind if I have a kip before we go off on our next adventure?"

"Not at all." The Doctor pressed a kiss to the top of her head. "Sleep as long as you like, and we'll try to go someplace fun tomorrow."

Even half asleep, Rose still managed to raise a skeptical eyebrow at that, before shuffling down the corridor to bed. She barely stayed awake long enough to change into cotton jim jams before falling into bed and drifting off almost instantly.

Jet black eyes, staring at her. A smile that showed no humour, only bared teeth.

"I carved out his soul and sat in his heart."

A low, gravelly voice—almost a growl. A creature lunging at the bars that kept it separated from Rose and the others.

"The Wolf. There is something of the Wolf about you."

Adrenaline. Blood pounding in Rose's ears. How could it know? How could this… this thing she'd never met know about Bad Wolf?

"I don't know what you mean."

It was a lie. She knew exactly what it meant.

"You burn like the sun, but all I require is the moon."

Moonlight streaming in through the open window. The creature changing, turning into a wolf right in front of their eyes. Trying to get the servants and Lady Isobel to help her pull their chain out of the wall, before they all became victims of the werewolf.

"Rose. Rose!"

The first thing Rose was conscious of was a weight pressing her shoulders down, pinning her to the bed. She kicked out and heard a soft grunt, then the weight disappeared. Free, she scrambled into a sitting position and blinked bleary eyes, trying to orient herself. If the creature had come back…

The Doctor was rubbing at his stomach, right about where a human's solar plexus was.

"Oh, my God! Doctor I'm so sorry—I didn't know it was you—I thought…" Rose gulped and swiped at the tears she could feel tracking down her face.

"Hey, hey, it's all right," the Doctor said gently. "Can I…" He pointed at the spot next to her.

"Yeah, 'course."

He sat down beside her and slowly wrapped an arm around her shoulders. Rose didn't need any more encouragement; she buried her face in the Doctor's chest and tried to block out the face she couldn't forget.

The Doctor ran his hand through her hair, and the feeling of his long fingers combing through the strands soothed Rose. She pressed as close to him as possible, not caring if she got indentations on her cheek from his shirt buttons. The sound of his hearts beating was more important.

"Was it about the werewolf?" he asked when her breathing had slowed slightly.

"Yeah," she whispered. "It stared at me… his eyes were the worst." She bit her tongue before she mentioned Bad Wolf. Later, when she was less distraught, she might tell him about that moment. Right now, she didn't have the energy to deal with either his questions or his freak-out.

The Doctor heaved a sigh and dropped his hand to Rose's waist, wanting to hold her as close as possible. The look on her face… the terror he'd seen there when he'd finally found her in that room…

"I'm sorry I didn't get there faster, Rose. The monks had blackmailed Sir Robert into helping them, but he was trying to tell us the truth at dinner, through a story. I didn't realise you were in danger until the end of the story."

He felt her press a kiss to his chest, then she looked up at him. "I know," she murmured. "I mean, not about the story or anything, but I know you came as soon as you could. I was just scared, is all."

The Doctor pressed his lips together and nodded, then said, "Finding you was my very first thought, as soon as I grasped what was going on."

Rose smiled, then yawned and blinked a few times.

"You should go back to sleep," the Doctor told her softly. "You only lay down a few hours ago."

Her gaze shifted so she was looking at the wall just above his shoulder.

"Rose? What's wrong, sweetheart?" The endearment slipped out, but at least it wasn't the more revealing love he'd been biting back for weeks.

She sighed and looked at him again. "S'just… I don't know if I can sleep. I'm afraid that if I close my eyes, it'll happen all over again."

She really was terrified; the Doctor could feel it when he pressed his hand to her cheek. Even without telepathy, the sharp tang of her pheromones hanging in the air would have made it obvious, but the powerful waves of fear rolling off her reverberated through his touch telepathy.

The Doctor watched her as she bit her lip and looked down. It was obvious what she wanted, and he didn't know if he wanted her to ask, or to just let it go. They'd shared a bed a few times before, but not since their romantic relationship had begun.

"Could you…" She played with his tie, then took a deep breath and met his gaze. "Would you stay with me?"

"Of course, Rose," he said automatically, her smile making any discomfort he felt worth it. He sat up and took his shoes off, but before he could slide under the covers fully dressed, he felt the distinctive pressure from the TARDIS that told him she'd moved something.

"I'll be right back," he told Rose, then he stood up and walked into the loo. As he'd expected, a pair of his pyjama bottoms were waiting for him on the vanity. The Doctor rolled his eyes at his ship, but changed as she suggested, even taking off his tie and shirt, leaving just the vest on.

When he came back, Rose had straightened the covers and was plumping up his pillow. He took one look at her pale blue vest and shorts sleep set and nearly swallowed his tongue.

Sweet Rassilon, I'm in trouble. At least he could control his physical reactions to her, or this would become very embarrassing very quickly.

When Rose was satisfied that the bed was ready, she didn't walk back around to her side. She crawled, sliding under the covers and looking up at him with sleepy doe eyes.

"C'mon," she mumbled. "M'tired, Doctor." She patted the empty side of the bed, with the covers folded back, and smiled at him.

The Doctor took a deep breath, then joined her in bed. Rose curled herself into him almost before he was fully reclined, resting her head on his shoulder and her hand between his hearts.

He pulled the duvet tight around them, then sighed and wrapped his arm around Rose's waist, holding her close. No matter what the consequences might be, he'd been craving this kind of closeness with Rose for months. He turned his head and brushed a kiss against her forehead.

Rose hummed, and the Doctor's hearts stuttered at the soft, content sound. "Night, Doctor," she whispered. A moment later, her breathing changed and he knew she'd fallen back to sleep.

There would be no sleep for him. Not only had he gotten four hours the night before, he needed to stay awake so he could keep himself out of trouble. The layers between them were thin enough that he could feel all of her emotions brushing against his awareness. There were a few thoughts there too, but he ignored it all as best he could.

A dull ache formed at the base of his skull. Denying his telepathy was unnatural. This was his Rose, the woman he adored and who he wanted to be with for the rest of her life. The urge to form a telepathic connection with her was strengthening, and it took a conscious effort to resist.

In her sleep, Rose slung one of her legs over his, and the Doctor bit back a curse. If she'd set out purposely to make this difficult for him, she couldn't have been more successful.

But of course she wasn't, because Rose didn't have any idea that for Time Lords, physical intimacy was always accompanied by telepathic intimacy. She didn't know, and until he told her, their relationship couldn't progress any farther.

The TARDIS hummed an exasperated question, the same one she'd asked multiple times lately: Then why don't you tell her? The ship knew just as well as he did that Rose would never turn him down. She hadn't liked the idea of telepathy when it had been used on her without her knowledge, but that was the only time she'd ever had a negative reaction to it. More importantly, she knew him better now, and trusted him.

So why?

The Doctor sighed and finally answered the TARDIS' question. I'm not afraid she'll say no. I'm afraid she'll say yes.

And if Rose said yes, he wouldn't be able to resist. He ached for the kind of connection they could share. Tying their minds together, even just temporarily while they made love…

He sucked in a breath and fought back the desire that surged through him at just the thought. There was nothing he wanted more than to be with Rose Tyler, in all the most intimate ways you could be with a person.

But… if they took that step, if he finally let down his few remaining walls and allowed them to consummate their relationship, then she would know the deepest truths of who he was. She would know the ugliness—all the lives he'd taken, the hard choices he'd made.

And she would know how much he loved her.

Rose sighed in her sleep, and the Doctor nuzzled into her hair. He might not be ready to move their relationship to the next level, but he could hold her like this when she needed him. The rest would come soon.