Author's Note: This story was originally written in 2012, and published on the whofic website under my alias there, anthem. Ratings and reviews are welcomed and appreciated.

"I could spend it with you, if you'd like."

The words rang inside his head as he ran his thumb along the outside of his tea mug.

As much as it hurt, the way things were, he could understand her hesitation. He could understand why she thought there was no way he was exactly the other.

When they'd gotten to Jackie and Pete's house, Rose had disappeared wordlessly up to her bedroom, and his face had fallen, all hopes of her love being unconditional dashed. Jackie had put her hand on his shoulder comfortingly, and promised to make some tea while Pete showed him to the spare room.

The room wasn't small, but it wasn't big, either. The bed in the middle of the room looked soft and inviting, piled with pillows and lined with chocolate brown sheets. The curtains matched perfectly, a simple touch that just proved Jackie had decorated. An old, leather chair sat in the corner, with a bookshelf and reading lamp, and in the same spot on the opposite side of the room was a small desk. It reminded him of his room in the TARDIS - Simple, but just perfect for him. He'd settled in, taking off his coat and laying it on the bed before going downstairs for the tea Jackie had promised him.

Now here he was, tea in hand, settled in an arm chair in front of the roaring fire in the fireplace in the sitting room. He could hear Jackie and Pete whispering in the kitchen.

"Rose'll come 'round," he heard Pete say.

"I hope so," Jackie murmured back, "He seems so sad..."

"He loves her," Pete replied, simply. "And she just pushed him away. Of course he is."

He blocked out their conversation, opting instead to take a sip of his tea. He was glad to find that even in this universe, Jackie Tyler made the most heavenly tea he'd ever tasted.

He was still there hours later, long after the fire had died, and long after Jackie and Pete had gone to bed. His empty tea mug had since been abandoned on the side table, and he'd gotten up to light another fire before settling back down into the armchair and his thoughts.

The footsteps on the stairs were quiet, but he heard them all the same. In the chair across the way, she sat down, refusing to make eye contact with him. He tried to ignore her, not to stare, to give her her space and not obligate her to talk to him, but his eyes found her face and he couldn't look away.

They sat in silence, the two of them, for minutes, his hands shaking in his lap, and her eyes cast downward. Her breath came and went in little gasps, and when her shoulders started to shake, he knew. All worry of himself, or her answer, went out the window, as he pushed himself out of his chair and knelt in front of hers. Silently, he took her hands in his, tired eyes searching her face for tears. When he found them, he raised a hand, using the pad of his thumb to wipe them away.

Her eyes met his, blue mixing with brown, and he gave her a weak smile.

"I... It's really you, isn't it?" she asked, voice teetering on the edge of bursting into tears again, and he nodded, cupping her cheek with his hand.

"Yes."

"And... And you have all his... memories?"

"Yes. I think like him, I remember what he remembers..."

She nodded.

"And I love you even more."

She smiled, happily, leaning forward to hug him.

"I'm sorry," she murmured into his shoulder, and he wrapped his arms around her.

"It's okay."

"Is that offer you made on the beach still... still up?"

"For you, Rose Tyler? Always."

She took a deep breath.

"It'll take some getting used to, but... Forever. You promise, really?"

He smiled.

"I promise."

That was the first time Rose Tyler ever kissed her future husband.