Being stranded in Jackie Tyler's flat while the TARDIS recalibrated wasn't the worst thing that had ever happened to him, not by half. But it was its own special level of hell.
He plucked the sonic from the inside pocket of his leather jacket, surreptitiously flicking out the blue nodule for a scan of the surrounding air. No pathogens, or particles that he could detect, though that didn't help him a lick with trying to discover what it was about this tiny flat that caused his ears to burn so fiercely.
The thump of the fridge door closing in the kitchen drew his attention to what he silently suspected to be the main source of his discontent. Rose entered the living room with a mug in each hand, presumably after adding a splash of milk to his tea the way he preferred it. Splash of milk, no sugar.
She knew how he preferred his tea. He fidgeted with the sonic uncomfortably, closing the nodule arm manually and tucking it back into his jacket. His thick fingers adjusting the back collar of the jacket lapel nervously as she came to sit next to him on the sofa.
He relieved her of the offered mug and brought it to his lips for a strong, much needed swallow of its contents. In spite of the fact that he already felt warmer than he out to; that the tips of his ears had been red for days with warmth and his cheeks for just as long, the hot tea was a more than welcomed distraction from the seemingly simple occurrence of Rose Tyler's jean covered thigh sliding snugly against his own as she sat beside him.
He breathed through his nose and continued to down the hot tea, taking a deeper drink.
The TARDIS was resting just outside the block of flats, still running internal recalibrations after their most recent misadventure in 1987. A simple wedding, the reapers, and the self-sacrifice of a truly great man had not only been a bit too overwhelming for he and his companion; the TARDIS needed a bit of time to 'right' herself as well.
It had been three days since their return; the TARDIS locking her doors from the inside. Jackie miraculously absent from the flat and on holiday with Bev in Wales. That's where the miracles had ended. Three days, it seemed was just enough time for two people who had spent the last six months living together (albeit in far more substantial quarters) to fully realize just how close they already were. Realization was a bitch.
The sudden forced physical closeness brought about by the miniscule Powell Estates housing was like a surprise snowball to the face after walking out of a warm building. The unexpected warm to cold temperature of such an attack didn't change your face in the slightest; but it was certainly a startling wake up call.
Six Months of spending every day together, eating together, running together, the dalek, thinking she was dead, being called out on his feelings by the most cold and logical creature in existence, the Fourth Great and Bountiful Human Empire and then the latest adventure where his own inability to say what really needed saying had nearly undone all of reality.
Throwing himself in front of a reaper to give her a few more seconds with her father. Dying. Just for a few more seconds of her happiness.
He'd brushed it all off before, with the running and the capturing and the quick but terrifyingly important decisions. When you run as long and hard and fast the way he does you try not to let things like your actions and their consequences weigh too much on your mind. You DO you don't THINK about doing.
It was all infinitely easier and all at once more difficult in London with Rose. He's not focused on saving the world, it's been only 72 hours and he's finally taking time and thinking about the things his body has been doing all along.
He automatically makes enough breakfast for two, he puts the kettle on and knows which mug she favors; even in her mothers home where they usually spend exactly none of their time if he has a say in it.
Things that he's been doing without thought for months in the TARDIS suddenly made so much more real by the change of kitchen; searching for the skillet in the morning and taking stock of the only available ingredients. He usually peppered their eggs with a special blend of three Alderaanian peppers, here he was using plain black pepper from the shaker and they didn't taste the same.
Once on Merisee (known as the "Bread-basket" of the Elrood sector) he and Rose had sampled some of their truly fantastic, universe-changing brown bread. So fantastic (mainly due to the the sounds Rose made when she let it melt against her tongue) that he now had a whole time-locked bread box in the TARDIS kitchen, full of the very same. It would never spoil, though they could always go back to replenish the stores later if needed.
Her wish was his command, he'd said just that to her face only a few days ago but the words rang of a truth now that he'd never had to contemplate before Rose Tyler had actually made him beans on toast. Proper beans and toast in her mums flat for dinner just the night before.
It was normal this, Rose making dinner while he took care of breakfast; typically their trips had them eating the midday meal on another planet, but in the warmth of the Tyler flat it now meant a quick run down to the chip shop.
The bread in London was really no comparison to Rose's preferred Meriseen loaf but it would have to do. Not that she'd complained once in their refuge here. Three days now he'd woken from his temporary bed on the sofa, gone to the kitchen and started to prepare their morning meal. And three days now he'd been shocked, humbled and disappointed.
Shocked, by the fact that for as much as he'd warned Rose not to make his TARDIS domestic; he'd been main perpetrator of such domestics. He'd never had a companion say no, and then so desperately wanted to change their answer before. After she said yes to his second query; he'd do anything he could to make her feel at home and stay with him.
Humbled, by the knowledge that domestics with Rose Tyler; for Rose Tyler, didn't actually bother him a fraction of the way that he'd led her to think they did.
Disappointed that in another 24 hours they'd be back in the dimensionally transcendental halls and rooms of his beautiful TARDIS. With all its bathrooms, libraries and swimming pools the size of a football pitch, his own spacious and multi-era friendly kitchen. No longer in a kitchen that forced them to be shoulder to shoulder at the basin washing dishes because the TARDIS had a dishwasher while the Jackie's flat didn't.
Then he'd circle right back around to shocked and humbled all over again at the realization that he was actually disappointed at the prospect of returning home.
Except it wasn't really home anymore was it? Home was where Rose Tyler was. Whether she was passing him tools as he fixed the 'Virgon Fluff n' Fold 53rd century washer/dryer in the TARDIS laundry room; or just now as she passed him the remote for the telly in her mum's flat. Ah, yes there was that humbling feeling again.
The Doctor let the warm mug in his left hand rest against his jean-clad knee, flipping the channel on the telly to 'Top Gear' where some bearded celebrity was driving round the course, before tossing it gently down on the open sofa cushion on the other side of Rose.
He exhaled as he sank back into the sofa, his shifting weight dipping down the center of the seat cushion and causing Rose to lean against his right side just a bit more.
She snuggled in after that, bringing her feet up so she could curl into him; the striped fuzzy socks on her feet brushing against the white leather sofa as she settled in.
"Oh I love this bit, seen this one before! The actor had only been driving for something like fourteen months when he did the course. Said he'd never needed to learn before because he preferred marathon running; sounds like us eh?" she commented lightly as she gave him that tongue touched smile of hers.
His throat bobbed with a hard swallow as his eyes zeroed in on her tongue, his right hand clammy as he wiped it off on his jeans before he realized that she was speaking to him. She was speaking to him and he had no idea what she'd just said. Rose Tyler is snuggled up with him on a tiny sofa and his universe had never felt so small. So small and so perfect.
He can feel her heart beating all along his right side, and his right arm is aching to wrap around her shoulders but he is bloody terrified right now and oh he'd better respond, better keep it simple.
"Yeah,"
Her responding smile is all teeth then, as she smiled up at him happily before turning her attention back to the show. Leaving his genius brain trying to ponder and stumble over the best method for putting ones arm around ones best friend without letting her in on the monumental secret of his apparently glaringly obvious affections for her.
Three days in a flat and he's realized just how uselessly in love with Rose Tyler he is. How absolutely, irreversibly domesticated he was and how it was all his own doing; she hadn't even tried to change him. Rose Tyler didn't have a single manipulative molecule in her body.
All the domestics? That was all him. He was the one who dragged her to the morning markets on Sundays (Sunday markets had the freshest produce and his girl deserved only the best the universe had to offer). He'd been around humans a long time, he'd spent more time with humans than his own kind, he knows their weaknesses and their creature comforts. And he hadn't realized what he'd been doing 'til the beans on toast he'd so mocked six months prior.
Making a home for her. Meals and redecorating and laundry and shopping; trips home and night spent in the library reading books. They had a home together, a life together that he really never put a label on because it was just he and Rose. It was just how they were and how their life together was. It didn't register that exactly none of his past interactions with the human race had ever been remotely close to how he was with Rose. And it wasn't until they were stranded that he realized all the little things they did for one another day in and day out.
One another. She did those things too. She did as much for him as he did for her. Maybe she also? He tightened his resolve. Come on Time Lord, you coward. You can do this.
Carefully, quietly he shifted his right arm up and over Rose's body, curling his fingers around her right bicep as he let his own settle on her shoulder. He saw her smile in his periphery before she closed the remaining distance and rested her head against his chest, practically in his lap now.
Domestics, as long as they were with Rose Tyler? Really weren't so bad.